


When There's Nowhere Else To Run

by autumnyte



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Parting Ways Ending, Post-Canon, Post-Parting Ways Ending, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22271233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnyte/pseuds/autumnyte
Summary: After escaping to Mexico, Sean has to build a new life for himself in Puerto Lobos. But what does that even look like? He never expected to do this without Daniel, and he's not sure he can.Maybe he'll find some unexpected help along the way.(Post-Parting Ways ending.)
Relationships: Sean Diaz & Finn, Sean Diaz/Finn
Comments: 58
Kudos: 175





	1. Things Go Sideways

**Author's Note:**

> This will eventually include Sean/Finn content, but it's going to be a little while before it gets there. The initial focus is Sean on his own in Mexico. Other LiS2 characters will also be making appearances, but I won't tag them until they actually show up in the story. 
> 
> I opted not to rate the entire work, because the chapters are going to vary in content from T to M (and possibly a little E at some point), and I didn't want to slap on a rating that might be misleading.
> 
> Disclaimers: All dialogue is presented in English, even though Sean and the people he encounters in Mexico are speaking Spanish much of the time. This contains a fictionalized version of Puerto Lobos, much like the game, but it is partly based on the actual location. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

_"I'm sorry, Sean... but I have to go."_

_"Don't turn back for me."_

Shock and confusion clouded Sean's vision. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, but somehow, as if his muscles were on auto-pilot, he managed to keep his foot pressed to the gas pedal until he was clear of the border, well past the bullets and debris. The instant he regained conscious control of his movements, he pulled over to the side of the road, screeching to a halt behind a cluster of cacti. 

Sean opened the driver's-side-door and slid out. His trembling body crumpled to the ground. Images flashed through his mind of Daniel bailing from the moving vehicle into active gunfire. He'd abandoned the plan just as they were nearly home free. Sean had reached for him, but… it had all happened too fast. 

The last thing Sean remembered seeing in the rearview mirror was Daniel being apprehended, apparently unharmed. 

"Enano... no! Why?" 

As the reality of it sank in, salty tears streamed down Sean's face. His throat constricted and bile began to rise. There was nothing in his stomach but the acidic remnants of police-station coffee, and he dry-heaved into the dirt. 

_Fuck_.

This was not the plan. This was the furthest fucking thing from the plan. The possibility of something like this happening had never even occurred to him. 

"What am I supposed to do now?" He rested his head between his hands and escaped into the darkness they offered. 

Maybe he could sneak back into Arizona. Rescue Daniel and convince him all over again that Mexico was their only chance at a life together. 

"How do you expect to pull that off, genius? It's not like you're the one with superpowers."

And even if he could figure out a way… 

_"Don't turn back for me."_

Daniel hadn't wanted him to. 

Had Sean really been that shitty of a brother? He knew he'd made some stupid mistakes along the way, but he thought Daniel understood, thought they were on the same page. 

The blazing desert sun beat down unforgivingly on Sean's head, and he was certain he'd never been drenched in so much sweat. Not even walking to Haven Point. 

Maybe the cops had shot and killed him, after all. Maybe this was Hell and he just hadn't realized it yet. It was hot enough for it. 

His father suddenly appeared at his side, sitting next to him on the ground. "You're not dead, mijo. But you need to drink some water or you won't last long out here." 

"Dad?" Sean blinked. He couldn't believe he had any tears left, but fresh ones began to fall. "Jesus. Now I'm hallucinating, too." 

Esteban chuckled. "So dramatic! Don't think of it as a hallucination, think about it more like… I'll always be with you. And whenever you need me"--he tapped his temple--"you can find me here."

"Yeah, well. I do need you," Sean whispered hoarsely. "I fucked everything up, Dad. I'm so sorry. And I have no idea how to make it right, or what to do now." 

"Stop being so hard on yourself, Sean. You didn't _screw_ everything up. The plan didn't go how you wanted it, true. The universe has a way of doing that to our plans. But you're alive and safe. Daniel is alive and safe. I'm proud of you both." Esteban's voice cracked with sincerity, and Sean wished more than anything that it was possible to hug a vision. 

"You always said the most important thing was Daniel and me sticking together. And I failed! I can't take care of him from here!" Sean shouted, clenching his fists. 

"I know how much that hurts, son, believe me. But you gave him the lessons he needs. And thanks to you, he has other people--family--to take good care of him." Esteban sighed. "You won't be apart forever." 

"Won't we?" Sean wiped his damp cheeks with the back of his dusty sleeve. "Now I know you're not really Dad. He would never be okay with the idea of the two of us apart." 

Esteban smiled sadly. "This is not what I wanted for you two, no. But… it is what it is. What I wanted was for you and and your brother to develop a close bond, and you've done that. You two are closer than I ever could have hoped. You need to trust that the bond will survive time and distance. Right now, the most important thing is for you to focus on what comes next." 

"And what comes next? I go back to the border and turn myself in?" Sean asked. "Take my chances, or maybe confess to shit I didn't do and hope it's enough to protect Daniel?" 

"Does that feel like the right solution to you?" Esteban pointed to his chest. "In here?" 

"Aah! You always pull this Dad shit, where you know the answer to something and won't just come out and tell me what it is." Sean kicked at the dirt. "No, it doesn't feel like the right thing. Why should I throw my life and freedom away? Especially when Daniel and I would still be separated. What good would it do anyone?"

Esteban gazed off into the distance. "I know you're tired of hearing this story, mijo, but I went through something similar when my parents died. I wasn't much older than you are now. Puerto Lobos had been my whole life, but I knew deep down that my future wasn't there. Even with that knowledge in my heart of hearts, leaving was scary. Making a life for myself all alone in a new, unfamiliar country was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But I wasn't alone for long. And it was the greatest adventure of my life. Just look where it got me." 

"Dead?" Sean muttered bitterly, before he could reel himself in. 

"A-ha! Now there's the sarcastic son I know and love. I was starting to get worried," Esteban continued, unfazed. "Death can find us anywhere. But I wouldn't trade one minute of the life I built with you and your brother. And my dream for you is to experience that kind of happiness, too. Whatever form and shape it takes." 

The very concept of happiness seemed so distant, so alien to Sean that he couldn't envision any possible path to it. All he could do was try to trust his father, or at least, this memory apparition of him. 

"So I should keep going, then. To Puerto Lobos?" Sean looked up, only to find that Esteban had vanished. He let out a long breath, rose to his feet, and brushed the dirt off his jeans. "Guess that's as close to an answer as I'm gonna get." 

He rounded the truck and began to rummage around in the cargo bed. The cops hadn't even bothered searching the vehicle or confiscating their belongings from it. Sean still couldn't believe they hadn't impounded the thing. He'd been all set to hotwire a getaway car. What was one more instance of grand theft auto on his rap sheet at that point? But Karen's truck had been sitting in a parking spot, waiting for them. 

He grabbed a warm bottle of water and took a swig. Even though it was barely palatable after having baked in the heat for hours, his father had been right. He needed to hydrate. 

Sean held the plastic bottle aloft, miming a toast to the El Rey Police Department. "Thank you for your shoddy police work. Here's hoping someone let your best and brightest out of that closet." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the memory of escaping with Daniel sent a visceral jolt of loss through Sean. He had to clutch the tailgate to steady himself, his knees threatening to buckle. 

This was all wrong. How could he go on without Daniel? And what had actually happened back there? Had Daniel been angry with him? He hadn't seemed angry, but he'd been adamant that Sean continue on without him.

Sean thought back to the morning two days ago, after they'd camped together in the canyon and watched the sunrise. Daniel had asked Sean to continue the tale of the wolf brothers, but for the first time, he'd wanted to be part of the storytelling. 

_"It's my story too, right?"_

Right. Maybe Daniel had spotted his mighty fire unicorn.

Sean's eye stung with phantom tears. He was finally all cried out.

"Alright. Get it together, Diaz. Time to focus," Sean told himself. After a brief search through the grocery bags, he found the items he was looking for. The map, courtesy of David, and a pack of cigarettes, courtesy of Karen. He pulled out his father's lighter and lit up, taking a deep, fortifying drag before studying the map.

As he smoked, he traced a fingertip over the highlighted route past the border, following it from the spot where they'd initially planned to cross to where he was now. 

Mexico had a "free zone" that was established so tourists could drive their American cars through without a permit and without hassle. It covered most of Sonora, and David had plotted a route to Puerto Lobos that was fully contained within the free zone. He'd warned Sean that he would still have to be careful not to get pulled over, but in the free zone there was a much lower risk. 

There was a red star by the city of Caborca. It was located just past the halfway point of the four hour drive, and was where Sean intended to stop for supplies and refueling. He would stick to that part of the plan, at least. 

Anxious to put additional distance between himself and the border, even as worries about Daniel continued to tug relentlessly at him, Sean forced himself into the driver's seat and steered back onto the road. 

* * *

The sign for Caborca appeared after what felt to Sean like mere minutes, proving that his sense of time was well and truly muddled. Yesterday might as well have been a year ago. He couldn't even recall having passed any scenery over the past couple of hours. He'd spent the entire drive preoccupied with worry and guilt. 

Now, he resigned himself to tamping down those emotions in the name of survival. He would deal with them later, just like the still-unresolved grief and anger he'd buried deep after his father's death. 

Sean gripped the steering wheel tighter as the road became twisty-turny. He took in the view of the city as he approached. Nestled beneath a vast mountainside was a varied expanse of buildings. Several historical moments rose prominently above the cityscape, with clusters of smaller, boxy structures interspersed between them. Palm trees were everywhere. 

Once he entered the city itself, Sean had to traverse through cracks and potholes in the pavement, but the roads were well-marked and easy enough to navigate. Banks, gas stations, pharmacies, shops, restaurants, motels, and other miscellaneous businesses dotted the streets. Cars were densely parked along the curbs, a number of them with US license plates. 

Sean managed to find an open spot alongside a small, unassuming bodega. He checked himself in the rearview mirror. _Shit_. His eye was bloodshot, skin blotchy from crying, and his face and eye-patch were covered in dirt. He splashed some warm water from the bottle onto his face and scrubbed at it a bit, then smoothed his hair in an attempt to make himself as presentable as possible. 

"Not great, but better than nothing." He sighed and reached for his wallet. A hundred and forty-six bucks. He'd have to make it stretch as far as he could. 

A bell jingled above the door as Sean entered the brightly-lit shop. He glanced around at the impeccably organized shelves, and noted several room fans strategically positioned on the floor, circulating air in an attempt to cool the place down. He stood in front of one of them, enjoying the sensation of the breeze against his warm, sweat-slicked skin. 

The sound of laughter sailed across the room, and Sean turned to find that its source was an elderly woman behind the counter. Dressed in a cheery pink shirt with large white flowers, she wore her long, white hair in a messy braid. 

In another time or place, she would have been a perfect subject to sketch. Sean tried to commit her image to his memory. Maybe he could capture her in his mind's eye well enough to draw later. 

She gestured welcomingly and grinned, dimples appearing on her rounded cheeks. "Hello, young man. It's too hot, yes? Good day to stand in front of a fan." 

He returned her smile, weakly. "Yeah, the breeze feels great." 

"Well, stand there as long as you like. And if you need help finding anything, let me know." 

Sean began to browse. A small corner of the store was obviously targeted at tourists. There were funny and whimsical souvenirs that made him think of Daniel, Finn, Lyla… even Karen. 

All of whom he might never see again. 

_Ugh._

He forced the errant thought aside, and moved on to the food section, grabbing himself a chock-o-crisp and a cold root beer. Yes, it was a waste of precious money, but he didn't have the strength to resist the urge. He was so fucking tired of being a grown-up, and he wanted a reprieve, however brief. 

"Hey, um, do you know where I could get a prepaid phone around here?" Sean asked as he set his purchases down on the counter. 

The woman nodded. "There's a Telcel six doors down. Make a right, and walk past the green taqueria." 

"Awesome. Thank you." Sean felt a little lighter. Between that information, and the gas station he'd spotted across the way, he get everything he needed without having to scour the city. 

"Anything else for you today?" she asked.

He had intended to pick up more cigarettes, but couldn't bring himself to make the request of such a sweet, grandmotherly woman. "No, I'm good." 

She rang him up on an old-fashioned cash register. "Twenty-nine pesos." 

"Oh, uh… " Sean pulled out his wallet. "How many dollars is that?" 

"We can't take American money. I'm sorry. The laws are very strict." The old woman gave a rueful frown. "Do you have a credit card? Debit card? I take either." 

Sean shook his head. His heart sank. He had assumed this would be like Canada, where businesses near the border accept US dollars without batting an eye. 

"Don't fret. You just need to visit an exchange bureau. There's one about four blocks over. With your passport, they can exchange your dollars for pesos." She patted his arm reassuringly. 

A wave of panic swept over Sean. Why hadn't he done more research? Planned better? Did he really think he could simply waltz into a different country and wing it? 

No wonder Daniel had jumped out of a moving vehicle to get away from him. Christ, he was a fuck up. At least no one else had to pay the price now.

"Oh, you poor dear." Wizened hands touched his shoulders and guided him to a rickety wooden stool behind the counter. "Take a deep breath. Everything will be alright." 

"It won't… I can't... " he started dumbly. "I don't have a passport." 

She looked him up and down, as if studying him. "My name is Paola," she offered, after a moment of silence. 

"I'm Sean," he replied. "Sorry for, uh, getting so upset. I'll get out of your hair now." 

Paola lifted her long, white braid and held it aloft as far as her plump arm would extend. "Ah, but my hair is not so easy to get out of, you see! No need to rush out. I think you've had a rough day, Sean. Am I right?" 

"The roughest," he replied, unable to keep his voice from quavering.

"Well, now that we're properly introduced, I think we should be friends." Paola eyed the door, then pulled out a small metal lockbox from beneath the cash register. "And as friends, I see no reason why you and I can't have a friendly little trade of pesos for dollars. Unofficially. Just between the two of us." 

"Wait… really?" Sean looked up at her, afraid his ears were playing tricks on him. Maybe his Spanish was rustier than he thought. "But I don't want to get you into trouble. And won't that leave you stuck with dollars you can't use?" 

"Don't worry about that," she said. "My daughter goes to Arizona every week. She and I can do a little friendly trade of our own." 

"Thank you." Sean let out a relieved breath. "So much. Really. You have no idea how much you're helping me." 

"It's nothing." Paola squeezed his shoulder. "How much do you need to exchange?" 

He opened his wallet and removed the contents. "I have one-hundred forty-six dollars, and I should probably exchange it all. If you can." 

"I can." She punched some numbers into a calculator on the counter. "It's two-thousand six-hundred and fifty pesos. That work for you?" 

Sean felt even more stupid and unprepared at the realization that he had no clue what the exchange rate was. "I have no idea," he admitted. "But I trust you. So, yeah. That sounds great. Thanks, again." 

"You know, I've had a lot of help in my life, over the years," Paola said, a twinkle in her eye as she counted out pesos from the lockbox. She handed them over, taking Sean's dollars in return. "So I should be thanking you as well, for giving me a chance to pay a little of that back. Maybe, one day you'll be in a position to do the same for someone else." 

"Yeah, I hope so." Sean smiled gratefully and doled out thirty pesos to pay for the candy and soda, but Paola shook her head. 

"No charge today." 

"But--"

"No charge. Don't argue with your elders," she admonished with a wink. "I ask only one favor. Come back to see me sometime, if you can. It would be nice to see you having a better day."

"Well, it definitely couldn't be much worse," Sean murmured, his smile fading a bit. "And I will." This was the closest city to Puerto Lobos, so it felt like a promise he could keep. "Thank you so much. For everything." He made his way to the door, pausing to wave before he stepped back outside. 

* * *

Forty minutes and a few errands later, Sean had a belly full of tacos, a cheap, no-frills cell with a prepaid card, and a topped-off gas tank. He was down six-hundred pesos, but he'd gotten everything he needed. 

Sean sat in the truck, lit a cigarette and watched the horizon as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, rendering the sky into gorgeous shades of pink, purple, and gold. As darkness fell, the stifling heat became more bearable. 

How could the world be such a terrible and wonderful place, all at once? Every time Sean found himself losing hope, ready to throw in the towel, someone turned up to lend a hand and pull him out of despair. 

"Thank God for Paola." 

He turned on the ignition and headed back to the main road. Next stop, Puerto Lobos.


	2. Puerto Lobos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean finds family in Puerto Lobos, frets about Daniel, and tries to connect with Finn.

The road to Puerto Lobos was dim and winding. Sean had struggled with night vision ever since losing his eye, and under these conditions, visibility was even more of an issue. 

At one particularly sharp curve, he narrowly avoided swerving into a tree. 

"Shit!" 

He pounded the steering wheel with his fist. He should have planned the timing of this better, maybe spent the night in Caborca. It was one more fuck-up he could add to an ever-growing list. But he was afraid that if he stopped or turned back, he would never make it.

Whatever force was keeping Sean going now--propelling him onward despite the worry, fatigue, and grief--he sensed that it wouldn't last indefinitely. He had to get to his father's house while he still could. 

After an interminable drive, he finally arrived at the village, pulling to a stop beside an old stone fence that bordered the beach. He stepped out, lit up a cigarette, and soaked in his surroundings. 

A hot breeze carried the scent of the sea to Sean's nostrils. He stared out at the mass of rippling, dark water that stretched across the horizon. The black sky was teeming with stars. Not a single person could be seen in either direction. 

Was it later than he thought? Or did the inhabitants of Puerto Lobos retire early? He was reminded of the stillness of Beaver Creek when he and Daniel had traipsed through the snow to Claire and Stephen's for the first time. 

Beaver Creek. 

Would Daniel be allowed to return there at some point? Officer Campbell had said he was too young to prosecute for anything, but that was before Daniel went all telekinetic on their asses. With any luck, they'd been too confused by what happened to grasp the reality of it. Or maybe they thought Sean was the one with the powers. 

God, he hoped so.

Gazing up at the stars, Sean wondered where Daniel was right now. Sound asleep in a comfy bed? Restless and stuck in a cell somewhere? Was there a window he could watch the fireworks through? 

An ache lodged itself deep in the pit of Sean's stomach. Tears threatened, and he shut his eyelids tightly against them. Not this. Not yet. He could fall apart later. 

He dropped the cigarette butt, stamped it out, and got back in the truck. He wove slowly through unpaved roads, squinting at infrequent signs and landmarks, until he eventually found the property his father had spoken about so often. 

This was home, now. 

"And it's a shithole," Sean muttered. He hoisted his backpack over one shoulder and wandered closer to get a better view. 

The place was boxy and gray, two stories high, and built with concrete block. It was both larger and more run-down than Sean had envisioned. Garbage and debris had accumulated in mass quantities at the base of the house. The windows were boarded up so tightly that he was unable to see inside, and the sturdy front door had three deadbolt locks keeping it shut. 

Sean gave the doorknob a twist. He jiggled it. He shoved the door with his shoulder. No dice. It wouldn't budge even a fraction.

"Awesome plan, Sean. Let's just go to Dad's house that's been abandoned for decades, that you don't have the key or the deed to. Oh, and just to make everything more fun, why don't you be an undocumented fugitive?" 

He circled the house, checking for any possible openings, but it had been well-secured all around. On the plus side, it meant there were no squatters to kick out. He would have to pry the boards off one of the windows and break in, but it was too dangerous to attempt in the dark without so much as a flashlight. 

Defeated, Sean trudged back to the truck, slid into the driver's seat, and reclined as far as he could. 

Although he was wary of what nightmares awaited him, and dreaded waking up tomorrow to discover that this was still his reality, exhaustion won out, and he eventually drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

The sound of knocking roused Sean from a heavy slumber. He opened his eye against the bright morning sunlight and turned to find a middle-aged woman crouching down and staring through the window at him, waving wildly to get his attention. 

When their gazes met, she gasped. "Esteban?" She quickly shook her head, as if dislodging the thought. "No, of course not. You're far too young. But my God, you look just like him! You must be Sean." 

Still groggy and disoriented, Sean gave the side of his face a quick slap. Apparently, he wasn't dreaming. He sat up straighter. "Yeah. I'm Sean. You knew my Dad?" 

"I'm Nanda!" She beamed and opened her arms wide, as if no further explanation was necessary.

"Nanda?" he repeated. 

"That's what everyone calls me. I'm Fernanda." She paused, waiting for a glimmer of recognition, and her smile faded only slightly when one did not follow. "Fernanda Diaz Valles de Vásquez. Your father's cousin!"

"Oh!" His father had a cousin? Esteban had talked in general terms about family back in Puerto Lobos but never mentioned anyone in specific. Sean opened the door and stepped out to greet her. "It's good to meet you." 

"Yes, you too!" She craned her neck toward the beach, looking around. "Where is Esteban? He should have written to say you were coming for a visit." 

"Right... you wouldn't have heard. I guess the news didn't make it down here. My Dad was… he's not… he…" Sean's throat prickled, and he couldn't force the rest of the words out. 

From the abrupt change in Nanda's countenance, Sean could tell she had grasped what he was trying to convey. "Oh, I'm sorry. Poor Esteban. Such a good man." She pulled Sean into a vice-grip of an embrace.

She loosened her grip a little, not letting Sean go entirely, and asked, "And your little brother, Daniel? Is he with you?" 

Sean couldn't stop a few tears from escaping. He shook his head. "We were separated. He didn't come with me." 

That earned him an even tighter hug, and as he wiped his cheek dry with the back of his palm, Sean had a wayward thought that Nanda might be a luchador. 

"That's enough questions for now. You need breakfast." She pointed down the beach. "You'll come to our house. We live two doors down." 

Sean studied Nanda. She was tall and lanky, her shoulder-length curly hair was black and graying at the temples. As he looked into her face, the family resemblance was undeniable, especially her eyes. 

Oddly, she didn't feel like a stranger. She felt like a lifeline. 

Sean glanced at his belongings in the cargo bed. Meager or not, he wanted to make sure they were secure. "Nanda, do you, um, know how I could get into the house? I don't have a key." 

"Oh! Yes!" She brandished a key ring from her pocket and dangled it in front of Sean. "Esteban gave these to me the day he left. I stop by a few times a month to make sure the place is still standing. It's why I came over, in fact. You're planning to stay here?"

Sean nodded. 

Nanda pressed the keys into his hand. "You'll need these, then. But the water and electricity haven't been on in years. And the house is bare as a goose-egg! Your father packed up and sold everything before he left." 

No furniture. No water. No electricity. _Perfect_.

"It'll be fine," Sean lied. "I've got a sleeping bag." 

She arched an eyebrow, but did not press the issue. Without prompting, she picked up several of Sean's bags from the back and began walking toward the house. Sean collected the rest of his things and jogged to catch up with her. 

He fumbled with the three locks and three different keys, but eventually got inside. From what he could make out in the near-darkness, the first floor was roomy. A large open living space, a small kitchen in the corner, and stairs leading up. 

"Esteban used to talk about converting part of this floor into a garage. There's a bathroom and two bedrooms upstairs," Nanda offered. "But not enough light in here to go up there now. I'll give you some candles so you don't break your neck. And you can borrow Arturo's tools to take the boards off the windows." 

"Arturo?" 

"My husband! You'll meet him at breakfast." She set Sean's bags down on the kitchen counter. "Ready to go?" 

He put everything down except his backpack and followed her out the door. 

* * *

Nanda's house--the Diaz Vásquez residence--was as warm and homey as the woman herself. Bright colors and a massive collection of framed photos graced the walls. The ceilings were hung with well-tended plants in baskets. And the rustic-style furniture was plush and inviting. 

Seated in a large, red equipale chair at the head of the kitchen table was a rotund man. He had thick salt-and-pepper hair with a mildly receding hairline, and was dressed in a crisp, white, short-sleeved button down. He was hunched over the table with a pencil, absorbed in a crossword puzzle. 

Nanda squeezed the man's shoulder. "Arturo, look who I found on my morning walk! You'll never believe! This is Esteban's son, Sean." She gestured back and forth between them. "My husband Arturo." 

Arturo grunted in greeting, apparently not interested enough in the news to glance up from his crossword.

"Have a seat, Sean. My Arturo is a man of few words. I think he saves them all up for his puzzles." Nanda began to putter around the kitchen preparing breakfast. She continued talking as she cracked eggs into a cast-iron skillet. "So… you seemed surprised to meet me back at the truck. Did your father never mention me?"

"Not exactly. Not... by name." Sean caught a hurt expression passing over Nanda's features before she turned to stir the eggs. He hastened to add, "Dad… he mentioned Puerto Lobos all the time, but he always refused to go into detail about it. 'What happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico', he used to say. Barely even talked about his parents. He had a postcard of this town up on our pinboard, but not many photos of people from here. I think maybe it was too painful for him." 

"Hmm." Nanda placed a mug of fragrant coffee and a plate of warm sweet bread in front of Sean. "That sounds about right. It was hard for Esteban to leave here, and I think a clean break was the only way he could make himself do it. He and I grew up together. Our fathers were brothers, and neither of us had any siblings, so we were close. Oh, I could tell you some stories!" She smiled fondly. "He wrote to me about once a year. I still have all his letters. You should read them sometime. There's a lot about you and your brother. You boys were his world." 

"Thanks." Sean choked up at the possibility. "That would be really cool." 

Nanda put a generous portion of scrambled eggs and fresh fruit in front of Sean, then slid into the seat beside him. She sipped from her own mug of coffee and asked, "How long will you be visiting for?" 

"Oh, um." Sean finished chewing and swallowed around a large mouthful of bread. "I guess... permanently?" 

Nanda took his hand. "Permanently? What happened?" 

When he gazed into those eyes, similar enough to his father's that it made him feel at ease, the entire story spilled out: from Seattle to the Arizona border. He even told her about Daniel's powers. Sean talked and talked, until his tongue was too parched to continue. 

Nanda went so quiet that Sean worried she was going to turn him in to the authorities, or kick him out and tell him never to darken her doorstep again. Instead, she fetched him a glass of water, then drew him into another vice-grip hug, and kissed his forehead. "You made it in one piece. Thank God. You're here now. And we'll help you get settled, won't we, Arturo?" 

Arturo mumbled something that sounded like agreement. 

With that, Nanda launched into a lengthy lecture about all the things Sean needed to do in order to make the house livable. 

It made his head spin. The prospect was daunting, even with this unexpected family he'd found. And every moment was made more excruciating by the enormous piece of his heart he'd left behind at the border. 

As if sensing the shift in Sean's mood, Nanda switched gears and began talking about her two daughters. 

The eldest was Telma, a 25-year-old lawyer who worked for the Attorney General's Office and lived in Mexico City. Nanda spoke about her in reverent tones, as if she'd hung the moon. 

Elena was the younger daughter. A 17-year-old, about to be a Senior in High School. 

"She will be thrilled to meet you," Nanda declared as she cleared away the breakfast dishes. "She's always wanted a cousin her own age." 

Half an hour later, Sean was heading out the front door with Arturo's toolbox in one hand and a bag full of portable lighting in the other. There were candles, a flashlight, and a battery-powered lantern. 

"You be careful all alone in that place," Nanda warned from the doorway. "And come back here anytime to bathe or to eat. At least until your utilities are sorted out. Don't be shy!" 

As she closed the door, Sean heard her exclaim, "So much like Esteban." 

Yeah, right. He fucking _wished_. 

* * *

Sean sat on the floor of the abandoned living room, lantern beside him, and stared at the empty, peeling wall. He'd done fuck-all for at least an hour. It was hotter than Satan's balls, he was wiped out, and he had no idea where to begin. 

Finally, he decided to set up the prepay cell he'd purchased in Caborca. He scratched off the code on the card, loaded the phone with minutes, and downloaded a burner app to anonymize his number. But who, exactly, could he call? 

Karen was probably still detained by the police. Claire and Stephen's landline had almost certainly been bugged. Sean knew he wasn't exactly difficult to find in Mexico, but he didn't want to risk giving something away in conversation that would make the FBI's job any easier for them. Not to mention that he didn't want to put his grandparents in that position. 

Lyla? His face burned with shame. He couldn't bring himself to tell her what happened with Daniel yet. And how could he explain it to his best friend when he still didn't fully understand it himself? Worse than that, he was terrified she would end up hating his guts. Rightly so. Maybe everyone would. 

What about Finn? Finn knew what it was like to make a serious mistake. Maybe he'd understand. The urge to talk to him became too strong to resist, and Sean rapidly entered the digits that he'd memorized, having read Finn's letter so many times. 

"You got Finn. Leave me a message. Or not… you know. Cool either way."

Sean hung up at the beep and shoved the phone into his pocket. He knew better than to leave a voicemail, just in case. He'd wanted to hear Finn's voice, but all the recording had done was make him long for more.

Sean didn't know of any numbers to reach the other people he wanted to call: Cassidy, Jacob, the residents of Away. He remembered a few numbers of old friends from Seattle, but wasn't sure that any of them other than Lyla could be trusted. 

"Fuck it. Time for a smoke." He made his way outside and lit one of his few remaining cigarettes. The back of the house faced the beach, and Sean lost himself for a while in the calming motions of the sea. 

"Hey." A gentle punch to the shoulder startled him from his reverie. "Sorry, but you were totally zoned out there. You're Sean, right?" 

Beside him stood a girl about his age and height. Her long, chestnut hair was tied into a low ponytail and she had the same smile as Nanda. Sean exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You must be Elena." 

"That's me." She fake-curtseyed, then pointed to his cigarette. "Can I get a drag?" 

"Sure." He passed it over. "This won't get me in trouble with your mom, will it?" 

"Are you kidding?" Elena took a puff. "She thinks you're, like, the second-coming or something. Talked about you nonstop as soon as I walked in the house. 'Sean this. Sean that. Such a sweet boy, so strong, so brave.' On and on." She handed the cigarette back. "Can't blame her, though. You turning up is the most exciting thing to happen in Puerto Lobos in, like, forever. Damn, that eyepatch is cool. Ooh, a tattoo." She bent down to look at the wolf on his arm. "I've been wanting one for ages, but Mom freaks whenever I bring it up. Last year, I tried to trick Dad into agreeing while he was in the middle of a crossword puzzle, but he was actually listening for once." 

Sean bit back a chuckle. He was starting to understand why Arturo was such a man of few words. Elena had clearly inherited her mother's penchant for chatting, but Sean decided against pointing that out.

Elena gestured back toward the empty house. "So, you're really planning to live here?" 

"Gonna give it a try," Sean answered with a shrug. "I've lived in worse." 

"Right. My mom told me all about the woods, the shelters, the abandoned cabin, the pot farm and everything. I know you don't know me yet, and I won't ask you a million questions, but if you ever want to talk about it, I'm actually a decent listener when I can stop running my mouth." She smiled and made a zipper motion against her lips. "And I'm good at keeping secrets." 

Sean returned the smile. He wasn't sure yet what to make of his cousin, but having her talk without expecting him to hold up much of a conversation was comforting in a way. It made him feel less alone. "I'll keep it in mind." 

Elena gave him a quick hug. "Alright, I gotta get going. I work this food truck down at the beach and my shift starts soon. But listen, my friend is having a party Friday night and you have to come!" 

Given the gravity of Sean's current circumstances, the idea of attending a party struck him as so absurd that he couldn't picture it. But anything had to be better than sitting alone in an empty house, feeling sorry for himself. "Will there be beer?" 

"Um, yeah?" Elena rolled her eyes, obviously insulted by the notion that she'd have invited him to a beer-less party. "Beer, weed, possibly some other shit I don't mess with, but if that's your thing, I won't judge. You in?"

Reluctantly, Sean nodded. "Okay. That'd be cool. Thanks." 

"I'm gonna hold you to it! Later, cuz!" With that, she turned on her heel and jogged up the beach.

Returning to the house, Sean moved his sleeping bag and scant belongings upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He chose the smaller of the two, because it seemed less empty with nothing to fill it, and it had a window facing the sea. 

"Daniel totally would have tried to rock-paper-scissors me for this room," Sean said, wistfully.

In search of a distraction from those sorts of thoughts, he fetched Arturo's tool kit and put himself to work removing the boards from the windows. He managed to get most of them off by late-afternoon, there were only a few on the second story that he couldn't reach without a ladder. 

Sean admired the effects of his handiwork back indoors. With the natural sunlight streaming in, the place looked less stark and foreboding. For the first time, Sean could envision the possibility of this becoming an actual home. He noted the thick layer of dust, now visible over every surface in the house. He would have to ask Nanda to borrow cleaning supplies. 

Sean took out a pencil and a scrap of paper to make a list.

  * _Go to store for more cigarettes and non-perishables_
  * _Borrow a ladder and cleaning supplies_
  * _Figure out water/electricity situation_
  * _Furniture?_
  * _Find a job_
  * _Call ~~Finn again~~ someone who will be able to give an update on Daniel_



He glimpsed his sketchbook in the backpack. It would be good to escape into his art. He carried it out to the back stoop and sat down to capture the beach. He drew for quite a while, adding more and more detail until the sun dipped low in the sky.

Satisfied, he snapped the sketchbook shut. It was a decent start. Maybe he'd add more to it later. For now, it was time to head back to Nanda's. 

* * *

Dinner was a casual and lively affair, with Nanda and Elena bantering throughout. Sean interjected something every now and then, but mostly kept quiet. The food was abundant and delicious, and he was grateful to be freshly-showered and well-fed. But watching such a tight-knit, happy family interact with each other only served to remind him what he was missing--what he'd lost. 

After dinner, though, Sean began to feel more like part of the family when Nanda and Arturo sat him down in the living room for a conversation that bore all the hallmarks of one of Esteban's patented "Dad Talks". 

"We have some ideas for you, Sean," Nanda started. "Arturo has a suggestion for a job you can do. Have you ever fished?" 

"Fished? I mean... I fished with Dad on camping trips a few times, but it's been years," Sean answered. 

"That's fine. Experience isn't as important as willingness to learn," Arturo chimed in. "This wouldn't be that kind of fishing anyway. It's commercial fishing. Hard physical labor. Long days that start early. Pays in cash, though. The boat I have in mind does mostly day trips, but once in a while you'd be out for days at a time. I know the captain. Could get you work as a deckhand, if you're interested." 

"Really?" Sean's eyebrows went up at hearing Arturo say so many words in succession. Working on a fishing boat had never occurred to him, but then again, neither had pot farming. In this sleepy seaside town, maybe fishing was his best chance to earn some cash until he could save up for something else. "I'm interested. What would I need to do?" 

Arturo passed him a piece of paper with directions to the dock. "Show up here at 5 a.m. Monday. Ask to speak to Captain Álvarez. He'll train you. He prefers greenhorns anyway because they don't have any bad habits yet. I'll give you some of my old gear to wear. Might be a little big, but it'll get you by until you can afford your own." 

Sean blinked at the paper. "Thank you, so much. That's incredible. You two are both so generous, and you only just met me. I'll try to find some way to repay you." 

Nanda shook her head. "You're family. This is nothing Esteban wouldn't have done for Elena if she had shown up in Seattle." 

She exchanged a look with Arturo, and her smile shifted into a straight and serious line. "On to the next issue, I told you that our older daughter, Telma, works for the PGR, right? She will be coming for a visit next weekend, and can give you some… unofficial advice about your legal situation. Until then, it would be good to get the local police on your side." 

"She means a bribe," Elena interjected. Having sailed through to get a glass of milk from the kitchen, she sat down beside her mother. 

"A _donation_ ," Nanda emphasized. 

Sean's jaw dropped. "Wait, seriously? Couldn't I just, like, stay out of trouble? Try to fly under the radar?" 

"In this town?" Nanda barked out a laugh. "Not for long, I'm afraid. But our police don't want any non-local law enforcement poking around here, either. They shouldn't need much motivation to 'lose interest' in your appearance here. At least temporarily." 

"Shit." Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. "I only have, like, two-thousand pesos to my name." 

Nanda nodded. "I didn't think you'd have much. Let me stop by their office with a tray of home-cooked food tomorrow. I'll ask a few casual questions, try to get a sense of what they might require." 

Fear churned in Sean's gut. Had he gone through all this only to end up in a Mexican jail, or deported right back into the hands of the Feds? 

"We'll figure something out," Nanda said, confidently. "But in the interest of keeping a low-profile, why don't we get your utilities turned on in Arturo's name? The bills will come to him, but you would pay them. Esteban left us with the deed, so it shouldn't be a problem." 

Sean's hands were shaking. "But, could you two get in some kind of trouble for helping me like this? I don't want you to put your name to anything if it might be a problem." 

"It'll be fine, Sean. The Diaz and Vásquez names mean something in Puerto Lobos, you'll see. Try not to worry! We want to help, right?" Nanda elbowed Arturo.

"Right," Arturo agreed. 

Eventually, Sean's nerves were calmed somewhat. The conversation came to a close with the consensus that Arturo would handle the utilities, Nanda would try to make inroads with the local police, and Sean would focus on making his place livable and starting to work on Monday. 

He had to make two trips back in order to carry the cleaning supplies, ladder, and fishing gear he was borrowing. 

He groaned as he set down the last of the items and locked the front door behind him. It was a whirlwind to have found this part of the family he'd never known. And they really did feel like family already. But he was terrified that they'd get tangled up in his fucked up mess and pulled under with him, just like the Humboldt crew and Karen had.

Maybe screwing up people's lives was Sean's superpower. 

_Ugh_. 

It was too hot to think. He took the lantern, headed up to the bedroom, stripped down to his boxers, and lay on top of his sleeping bag. He jiggled the phone beside him to wake it up. 

10 p.m. That meant it would be 9 p.m. in San Diego.

He tried Finn's number. Voicemail, again. 

Was Finn avoiding him, or just busy? Maybe he wasn't answering because the burner app Sean used made the number come up weird on caller ID. 

It was painful not to know anything about what was going on with anyone back home. And it was equally painful to realize that it wasn't his home anymore. 

Sean buried his face in the crook of his arm and cried. It was a long time before sleep finally found him. 

* * *

Friday night rolled around, and Sean was impressed with what he'd been able to accomplish in just a couple of days.

The house was clear of dust and debris, aired out, and filled with a few spartan pieces of furniture that Nanda had managed to round up from acquaintances. There was a beat-up avocado-colored loveseat which had seen better days, but was comfortable to sit on. There were also five chairs of various sizes and styles, two floor lamps, a rickety end-table, and a chipped-but-functional dresser. 

Sean had spent his Friday afternoon investigating the rather limited shopping options in Puerto Lobos. He bought food, water, and cigarettes from a small grocery shop, and found a thrift store where he was able to score a pillow, a set of towels, several gently used t-shirts, and an assortment of mismatched dishes and cups. 

The shopping had been followed by dinner at his cousins', and now Sean was back at home, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready for the party. 

He barely recognized his own reflection. Dark circles lined his eyes, and a week's worth of facial scruff framed his jawline. His razor had given up the ghost back in Away, and he refused to waste precious money on a replacement until he found a job.

With the eyepatch to boot, he looked every bit the criminal that the FBI made him out to be. It also aged him. The clerk at the store hadn't even blinked at selling him cigarettes.

After running fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, Sean changed into a clean, sleeveless t-shirt and glanced over at his phone. 

It wouldn't hurt to try again. Just one more time. 

He dialed Finn's number. 

Voicemail.

"Finn, it's me. Please… just... answer next time." Sean ended the call before his voice broke. 

Had that sounded desperate and pathetic? What if Finn didn't even recognize his voice, or care anymore?

Sean resigned himself to calling Lyla tomorrow. Even if she ended up pissed at him over Daniel, at least she would probably answer and tell him whatever information she had. 

Not particularly in the mood for socializing, he nevertheless grabbed his backpack and headed out the door to meet up with Elena. If nothing else, he could definitely stand to get wasted. 

* * *

The party was already in full swing by the time Sean and Elena arrived. A corner of the beach had been staked out with tiki torches. About fifteen kids Elena's age were clustered together on towels, beach chairs, and atop a few overturned canoes. A boombox and coolers of cheap beer were planted in the sand. 

"It's Elena!" A cheer went up from the group as they approached. One shirtless boy stood up and pulled her into a deep kiss. 

Sean awkwardly averted his eyes. 

"Everyone!" Elena said a moment later, having extricated herself from the boy. "This is my cousin, Sean. Sean, this is… everyone!" 

Sean's cheeks went crimson. He greeted the group with a quiet, "hey," and a weak half-circle wave. The least-cool gesture of all time. 

Elena put an arm around Sean's shoulders and guided him to an empty spot on one of the canoes. She handed him a beer and sat beside him, directing his attention to the girl on his other side. "This is my friend, Carmen. Most talented painter in our class, so I figured you two would hit it off." 

"Oh. Hey, I'm Sean," he said, offering the girl his hand. She was pretty, and had a very different fashion aesthetic than Elena. He wouldn't have guessed they were friends. She wore thick eyeliner, had her lip and eyebrow pierced, and her short, black hair was highlighted with purple streaks. 

"Hi Sean." She gave him a lingering handshake. "Elena said you do pencil drawings?" 

"Yeah. I mean, I dabble." 

_Dabble?_ Why was he so fucking bad at meeting new people? He took several swigs of his beer. 

Carmen leaned in closer. "Do you mind if I ask what happened to your eye? Does it affect your drawing, much?" 

"Oh, uh… I was in an accident," Sean said. He downed the rest of his beer in two gulps. 

Elena added, "Sean was working on an illegal pot farm in California. His boss tried to stiff him a whole week's wages, so he broke into the guy's safe. He lost his eye in the confrontation."

"Holy shit," Carmen whispered. "That is badass. I'd love to hear more." She gestured to Sean's empty bottle. "I'm getting another, you want one?" 

"Uh, sure. Thanks." 

As soon as Carmen was out of earshot, Sean whirled on Elena. "What the fuck, dude?" 

She grinned conspiratorially. "I'm helping you out. Trust me. Carmen has a thing for bad boys. She ate that story up." 

Sean rubbed his forehead. "Why would you think I want to hook up with a random girl right now?" 

"She's hot, and you never mentioned having a girlfriend. Wait... you don't, do you?" 

Sean shook his head. Whatever Finn was, he was not a girlfriend. 

"Just give her a chance, okay? She's really cool. If you don't like her in that way, maybe you two could be friends." 

"Okay," Sean agreed, as Carmen returned with their beers. 

Elena walked back to the guy Sean presumed was her boyfriend, sat on his lap, and began to whisper in his ear. Sean tried to make small talk with Carmen. 

They discussed art and music for a while, but she kept bringing the subject back around to Sean's run-ins with the law. 

"You're not an undercover cop, are you?" he teased, hoping to discourage her from pursuing that particular line of discussion. 

"Nope." She slid a hand onto his thigh and squeezed. "Rule-breakers just turn me on." 

"Oh, uh, look... I'm not… I mean... I don't, uh--" 

They were interrupted by the boy on Carmen's other side reaching over to pass a joint. Carmen took a hit, and handed it to Sean. He took a long toke and held it. By the time he exhaled and passed the joint back, he'd lost his train of thought. 

"Wanna take a little walk with me?" Carmen asked, getting to her feet. "It's quieter past that palm tree." She gestured to a dark spot about a dozen yards away. 

Sean struggled to verbalize a refusal that wouldn't sound rude, but he couldn't manage it. Instead, he stood and fell into step beside her. His vision blurred at the edges, and his feet were slightly unsteady as they made their way along the shore. If she could see him now, Lyla would mock him for what a light-weight he'd become. Buzzed off of just two beers and one hit. 

When they arrived at the tree, Carmen reached for Sean's shoulders and gently shoved him back against it. "This okay?"

"Um," Sean nodded feebly, his mind too fuzzy to fully grasp what she was asking. Her intent became clearer when she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. 

Her mouth was soft, and she smelled nice, like patchouli. For a split-second, Sean considered just yielding to the moment. It would feel good to be held, to lose himself in someone else for a little while. 

But his memory flashed immediately to Finn, and to the magical kiss they'd shared. That was what Sean wanted. That connection. To feel truly seen and understood. To be desired for the person he actually was, not some bad-boy fantasy that had been constructed around him. 

It wasn't fair to Carmen or to himself. 

He withdrew from the kiss. "Sorry, but… I can't." 

Carmen furrowed her brow. "Did I do something wrong?" 

"No. No way," Sean reassured her. "You're awesome. I'm… still sorta hung up on someone else. That's all. Didn't mean to give you the wrong impression."

"Uh-oh." She eyed him up and down. "You're secretly a stand-up kinda guy, aren't you?" 

Sean shrugged. "Maybe a little. Sorry." 

"Eh, you can't help it, I'm sure." Carmen clapped his shoulder consolingly and headed back to the party. He followed.

When they returned, even through the haze of beer and weed, Sean didn't miss the subtle head shake and thumbs down signal Carmen gave Elena. His cousin slipped out of her boyfriend's lap, marched over to Sean, tugged his arm and guided him away from the crowd. 

"What happened? I thought you were gonna give her a chance!" 

"That was my bad. I should have been more upfront with you." Sean studied the sand at his feet intently for a minute, before looking up and meeting her eyes. "The thing is, there's kinda… this guy." 

"Oh my God. You're gay?" Elena hugged him. "I'm an idiot. Why didn't you say something sooner? Did you think we were gonna be homophobic? My sister Telma's a lesbian! Mom and Dad are cool with it. Don't stress, okay?"

Sean huffed out a relieved breath. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm bi. There was a girl I used to be super into. But right now, it's a guy I can't stop thinking about." 

Elena nodded. "So, did you and him, like, break up?" 

"No, not exactly." Sean lifted two cigarettes from his pocket, lit both with his dad's lighter, and offered one to Elena. "The guy is Finn… that friend I mentioned who got me the job on the farm? Until I met him, I'd never really thought about guys in that way. So it took me a while to figure out what my feelings meant. We kissed for the first and only time the night of the heist. Basically, everything went to shit before we had a chance to get anything started. Now I'm here in Mexico forever, and he's on parole in California." 

"Oh, damn. That really sucks." Elena blew out a puff of smoke. "I mean, that is some next-level, Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed-lovers shit. And here comes your clueless cousin, pushing you on some rando." 

"Aww. C'mon. Don't make a face like a kicked puppy. You didn't know. You were just trying to help. We're cool, okay?"

She smiled. "Okay. And I promise I won't try to be your wing-cousin again, unless you ask."

"'Wing- _cousin_ '? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to be a thing." Sean laughed. "So, you gonna tell me about that guy whose face you were sucking?" 

* * *

When Sean arrived home several hours later, he still had a buzz going. He'd had a few more beers and a few more hits. Once he let himself temporarily forget about his troubles, he'd enjoyed spending time with Elena's friends. Thankfully, Carmen hadn't seemed to harbor any hard feelings toward him, either. 

After half-assedly brushing his teeth and slipping out of his jeans, Sean curled up on top of his sleeping bag and stared at his phone. 

He absolutely should not try to call Finn again. No way. It was practically the middle of the night. And twice in one night would come across as clingy. But Sean couldn't stop his fingers from dialing. 

Finn picked up on the first ring. "Sean?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." 

"I'm so fucking glad you called back, sweetie. I figured the blocked numbers were spammers, 'til you left that message. Sorry I didn't pick up sooner. You doin' okay? You finally make it to Mexico?" 

"I made it to Mexico, but... Daniel didn't come with me." Sean's voice cracked. "So much bad shit went down, Finn. And we finally got to the border and there was this huge blockade waiting for us. Daniel broke us through the barriers, but then he just… he fucking bailed out of the truck at the last minute, right as we were crossing. He told me not to come back for him." 

"Oh, fuck. _Fuck_. Do you know where he's at now?" 

"No. That's the worst part! I saw the agents take him, but I don't have any way to find out what happened after that. With all the bad shit they've pinned on me, especially now, they might shoot me on sight if I try to go back. I'm considered 'armed and dangerous'. And this time, I won't have Daniel to help. Do you think I should turn myself in anyway?" Sean wiped a tear from his eye. "Fuck. I'm the worst brother ever." 

Finn's voice was low and soothing. "Listen to me. You are an amazing brother. You did everything for that little guy. Hell, that's probably why he did what he did. He loves you so much. I bet he was trying to be a hero for you, like you are to him. Maybe, in his little kid brain, he figured if he gave himself up, the cops might leave you in peace." 

"But that makes no sense. He and I talked about the plan so many times. He should've known I wouldn't want to be here without him. He should have said something sooner!" Sean raised his voice, the words coming out louder than he intended. "Shit… sorry. I'm just so fucking scared for him. And it's like this huge part of me is missing. Feels even worse than losing my eye. I don't know what to do." 

"What you need to do right now is keep your ass in Mexico, you hear me? Won't do Daniel any good to have his big bro locked up. And if anything happened to you…" Finn went silent for several beats. "You just gotta focus on staying safe, alright? Let me help out from here as much as I can. I'm gonna find out where Daniel is for you."

"Really?"

"Of course. Leave it to me, sweetie." 

"That would mean so much. Thank you. If I could at least know Daniel was okay, maybe I could breathe again." 

"Well, we definitely need you breathing," Finn said, his tone so affectionate that it sent a rush of warmth through Sean. 

"Finn… I'm really glad you answered. It's good to hear your voice." 

"Yours too. I miss you so much. If not for this fucking parole, I'd head for the border tomorrow. But I got twenty months left to go, and big brother on my ass in the form of an ankle monitor. Damn thing snitches on me if I even think about taking a piss outside San Diego."

"Shit." Sean's heart sank. "That sucks." 

"It does indeed. But it could be worse. At least neither of us is behind bars. And before you know it, I'm gonna be on that beach with you, smoking a bowl. So you gotta take care of yourself until then. Deal?" 

"Deal." 

"How 'bout you call me again tomorrow night and I'll give you the lowdown on our little superhero?" 

"Yeah, thanks again. I'll talk to you tomorrow." 

"I love you," Finn murmured. 

Sean couldn't be sure whether Finn meant those words in the way he hoped. Finn loved all his friends. But before ending the call, Sean replied softly, "I love you, too." 


	3. Trawling and Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean starts his new job, get some news about Daniel, and connects with an old friend.

The sky was still dark as Sean pulled up to the address Arturo had scribbled on the scrap of paper. Stepping awkwardly out of the truck, he winced at the loud squeak his loose rubber boots made. 

In this getup, he felt more prepared for a Halloween party than a day of work. The white boots were paired with orange nylon overalls, a bright yellow parka, and black rubber gloves, all of which were at least two sizes too large for Sean. 

Determined to make a good first impression in spite of his uncomfortable gear, Sean plodded down toward the sand. On the right side, set back from the shore slightly, were three long and narrow buildings clustered together. Pale light streamed from the windows. Sean briefly searched for a sign, or some indication of what the buildings' purpose was, but found nothing. 

He continued down toward the lone, wooden pier that stretched out into the sea. Sean hadn't exactly expected to find Fisherman's Terminal in this small village, but he was surprised to see only two boats moored at the end of the dock. 

Gazing out at the sand that gleamed under a collection of haphazardly placed light fixtures, he spotted about a dozen pangas on the beach itself. Maybe they were better off out of the water at night? Damn. He knew so little about boating. 

There were two men standing off to the side of the dock, sipping something from paper cups. Sean approached them. 

"Hey, um… are either of you Captain Álvarez?" 

The shorter man with close-cropped hair narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you're the new guy for the Huixtocihuatl?" 

"Yeah, I'm Sean Diaz," he said, holding out his hand. 

The man ignored it, opting instead to crush the empty paper cup in his grip. "Unbelievable," he muttered before storming off. 

"That's Rodrigo. He's an asshole," said the second man, who had the physique of a linebacker, and shoulder-length mahogany hair pulled into a ponytail. "I'm Manny," he added, taking hold of Sean's hand and shaking it firmly. "I'm on the Huixtocihuatl crew too. The captain should be here soon." 

"Did I do something to piss that guy off?" Sean gestured to where Rodrigo was fuming several yards up the beach. 

Manny shrugged. "He's always got something up his ass. I wouldn't worry about it." He eyed Sean up and down. "Okay, what in the hell are you wearing, man?" 

Sean's cheeks went warm as he glanced down at his outfit. "My cousin lent me this gear. He used to be a fisherman. I know it's kinda big on me and mismatched, but… " 

Manny laughed. "That isn't the problem. I don't think he meant for you to wear it all at once. You only want the parka and bib for extremely rainy or cold weather. It's gonna be hot and dry today. You'll probably stroke out wearing that shit." 

"Bib?" Sean asked, picturing the paper neck things they handed out at Lobster Fest. 

Manny's laugh deepened. "Oh, boy. You really are a greenhorn." He tugged on the strap of Sean's overalls. "This thing. Take it from me, all you really need are those boots. Even the gloves will be too hot today." 

Torn between relief and embarrassment, Sean carefully removed all of Arturo's gear except the boots, leaving himself in jeans and a t-shirt. "I'm gonna go stash this stuff back in my trunk." 

"I'll walk with you," Manny offered, and Sean tried not to be too annoyed by the glimmer of amusement that remained in his new coworker's eyes. "So, how'd a newbie like you manage to land this job?" 

"Oh… my cousin Arturo knows Captain Álvarez and I guess he hooked me up," Sean answered. 

Manny's eyes went wide. "Wait, your cousin is _that_ Arturo? As in Arturo Vásquez Ortiz? The big boss?" 

Sean tossed the excess gear into the passenger seat and re-locked the door. "The... big boss of what?" 

"For real? You don't know?" Manny pointed at the harbor. "He manages this whole fishing cooperative. Fishing in Puerto Lobos would be dead if it hadn't been for his efforts a few years back." 

Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe neither Arturo or Nanda had mentioned this. "I just moved here last week. Arturo doesn't say much, so, uh… I guess it hasn't come up yet." 

"Well, you might not want to mention your connection to the rest of the crew right away," Manny advised in a hushed voice as they returned to the docks. "They might think you're a narc or something." 

"No way. I promise I'm not," Sean insisted. 

Manny nodded. "I believe you. Just show that you can pull your weight, and after like a week, nobody will give a shit." 

Rodrigo approached. He was as furious as he had been a few moments ago. He pointed a stubby finger at Sean. "Have you ever even been on a fishing boat?" 

"Actually... no, but--" 

"So what makes you sea-worthy? That stupid eye patch? I've been trying to get my little brother on this crew for months, and now they hire you? You look like you don't know a flounder from… from a fistfuck." 

Manny stepped in between them. "Leave the new kid alone, Rodrigo. Nobody's gonna be hiring your brother until he can stay sober long enough to string more than two slurred words together." 

Rodrigo shoved Manny's shoulder. "I should kick your ass for that." 

"If you can reach it, short stack, you're free to try," Manny taunted. 

A deep throat-clearing noise broke the tension. An older man with wild white hair and a white beard, dressed all in blue, stood frowning with his arms folded across his chest. "Already, guys? Isn't it a little early in the week?" 

"Sorry, Captain," Rodrigo said, taking a step back.   
  
"Yeah, sorry." Manny shoved his hands into his pockets. 

The man stepped forward and shook Sean's hand. "You must be Sean. I'm Captain Álvarez. Most of the crew just call me 'Captain'." 

"Good to meet you, sir, uh... Captain," Sean replied. "Thank you so much for this opportunity." 

Rodrigo made an exaggerated puking noise, but stopped as soon as the captain leveled a glare in his direction. 

Captain Álvarez craned his neck toward the sky, which was beginning to lighten from black to indigo. "Okay, time's wasting. Let's get her loaded and ready before the sun's up. Manny, will you show Sean the ropes this week? Get him trained on the basics?" 

"You got it, Captain." Manny clapped Sean on the shoulder. "Come on, time to haul the ice." 

Manny led the way toward the cluster of buildings Sean had noticed earlier. "This is the fish house. Mostly they process and package the local catch for distribution, though there is a little restaurant out front," he explained. "Every morning, they make extra ice for us, and in return, we cut them a deal on the catch." 

A bleary-eyed woman waiting in the doorway waved, then loaded each of them up with several heavy totes of ice. The heft reminded Sean of the water tanks in Humboldt. This time, he didn't have Daniel around to help him. 

His mind drifted to his last conversation with Finn, and the new information he'd learned about Daniel. But he knew that if his thoughts continued down that path, he'd never make it through the day. 

For now, Sean compelled himself to concentrate on the work. As it turned out, staying focused was not a problem, because commercial fishing was far more grueling than he'd anticipated.

The Huixtocihuatl was the larger of the two ships tethered to the dock. After storing the ice in the ship's insulated hold, the crew began mixing crushed ice with chilled seawater into dozens of buckets. 

"The catch spoils real quick in this heat," Manny said, directing Sean to place the buckets in a shady, covered area above decks. "Gotta get it chilled right away. We use the buckets for sorting, then take it down to the hold and put it on ice." 

Sean nodded. He glanced over at three workers who were scrubbing the deck, it looked like two men and a woman. Apart from the fact that they were busy, he was apprehensive to draw any attention to himself after that encounter with Rodrigo. He decided to delay his introduction. 

"That's Juanita, Teo, and Carlos," Manny offered. "They aren't conversationalists like I am, but they won't give you shit like Rodrigo. Juanita's the rigger, which means she's second-in-command. Teo and Carlos are deckhands, like you and Rodrigo. I'm the head deckhand, so I train the greenhorns." He grinned. "Speaking of which, time for a tour of the ship." 

As sunrise painted the deck in golden hues, Manny provided Sean with a thorough overview of the various parts of the trawler, explaining their functions and how the crew interacted with them. 

Captain Álvarez came aboard, made his way to the wheelhouse, and soon they were at sea. The captain announced that their destination for today was an hour out, but there was plenty of work to be done on the way.

Once the ship was out on the open sea, Teo and Carlos lowered the outriggers to a horizontal position. 

Manny continued to talk a blue streak as he showed Sean how to check, patch, and treat the fishing nets. He taught Sean about special attachments to prevent bycatch and capture of endangered species. He waxed poetic about how much he preferred shrimp season, which would start in September. 

"Shrimping used to be year-round here, but now we gotta give those little guys time to get their groove on and repopulate." Manny shrugged. "Happy summer romance, my little crustaceans!" 

Sean laughed. The temperature had risen, and a hot, heavy wind blew through his hair. Sweat was dripping out of every pore, and he was grateful not to be wearing all the gear he'd started the day with. 

Eventually the boat slowed to a crawl. This was the first spot. The crew sprang into action. Nets were unfolded, multiple looped half hitch knots were tied to the ends, and they were hoisted with the trawl doors to the ends of the outriggers. Once everything was securely in place, the boat began picked up a bit of speed. 

Sean stared at the nets as they sank to the sea floor. It was strange to realize that he was earning less money here than he had standing behind the counter of an air-conditioned Z-Mart. His shoulder and arm muscles ached from all the heavy lifting, and there were already tiny cuts on his hands from handling the ropes and nets. Maybe Finn would find them sexy, at least. Assuming he actually got to see Finn again. Maybe this experience would make a cool story to tell Daniel. The further adventures of Pirate Silver Runner. 

Despite how lost and lonely Sean felt since crossing the border, he never took one moment of being alive and free for granted. Enduring the punishing heat wasn't so bad, not when the main alternative was rotting away in a prison cell. 

Manny snapped his fingers in front of Sean's face. "It's hypnotic, right?" 

"Huh?" 

"The sea! I could stare at it all day, too."

"Oh. Right." Sean looked around for the rest of the crew. "So what happens now?" 

"Not ready to jump overboard yet? Juanita's gonna owe me 20 pesos," Manny joked. "The tow lasts about an hour before we haul in the nets. We've gotta keep an eye on them to make sure they're collecting right and don't snag on anything. And we should add more ice to the buckets." 

Sean shadowed Manny, and before long, they were hauling in nets filled with fresh catch, popping the bag ties, and dropping a mass of fish onto the work area of the deck. 

As quickly as they could, they sorted it into the icy buckets that awaited. This was where Sean felt his lack of experience most keenly. He didn't know his Groundfish species at all, and he knew he was slowing everyone down putting fish into the wrong buckets. 

But by the time they were picking through their third haul of the day, Sean's speed and accuracy had improved enough that even Rodrigo had been forced to tone down his snide remarks.

"It's break time," Manny announced, after the nets had been dropped for a fourth trawl. "We take it in shifts. Twenty minutes, and you'll want to get your food and go sit in the shade." 

Fetching his backpack from the hold, Sean followed Manny's guidance and made his way to a small, dry area of the deck that was partially covered by a canopy. He pulled out his water canteen and a paper sack containing two peanut-butter and banana tortillas, which were a hell of a lot more enticing now than they had been when he slapped them together at 4 a.m. He also slid out his sketchbook and pencils. Even with his hands stinging from minor scrapes, he couldn't resist the urge. 

He sketched out the aft of the ship, then drew in the little details and the sea spread out majestically behind it. He thought of Daniel--some part of him was always thinking of Daniel--and added an image of Pirate Silver Runner, standing wistfully on the deck, with a large thought-bubble depicting Superwolf. Sean wondered if he could figure out a way to get this to Daniel, somehow.

With Manny gesturing for his attention, Sean packed away his things, put those hopes temporarily aside, and returned to work. 

Afternoon aboard the Huixtocihuatl proved equally demanding, and the hours passed quickly. Having finally met the day's catch quota, the crew headed back and the ship returned to the dock at around 4 p.m. 

The workday was not over, though. By the time they raised the outrigger, stowed all the nets and equipment, and unloaded and carried their iced catch to the fish house for further processing, it was nearly 6 p.m. 

"You're a hard worker," Captain Álvarez said approvingly, pulling Sean aside. "It'll be good to have you on this crew, if you still want the job after seeing firsthand what it involves." 

"Yes," Sean said quickly. He didn't know what else was out there in terms of jobs, but he suspected that in his present circumstances he wasn't going to find anything more lucrative. "Thank you." 

The captain shook his hand, and Sean waved at the rest of the crew before returning to his truck. He closed his tired eye and smoked a cigarette down to the filter, then drove to his cousins' house. 

* * *

"Come in!" Nanda called from the kitchen. "How many times have I told you, Sean, you don't have to knock?" 

Sean found her vigorously chopping limes at the counter. "Thanks, Nanda. I just… don't want to wear out my welcome." 

"Such a sweet boy. You could never wear it out." Nanda paused her chopping and came around to give Sean a hug. "It's wonderful having you here. In fact, I've got something for you." She fetched a small basket from behind the counter. Inside, Sean could see dozens of carefully opened envelopes with familiar handwriting on the front of each. 

Sean teared up. "Are these… ?" 

"Yes." Nanda nodded. "I want you to have them. Take them with you, so you can have a look whenever the time feels right."

"Thank you. This is… I have almost nothing of Dad's. It means a lot to have letters he wrote." 

"I'm glad. But you have more of Esteban than you think," Nanda said, returning to the limes at her chopping board. "I'm not just talking about his house, his hometown, his family--your family, too. I see so much of him in you. You have his big heart." 

"Hey cuz!" Nanda's heartfelt words were interrupted by Elena, who came bounding into the room to give Sean a hug, but stopped short and held her nose. "Holy shit, you reek! You smell like a week-old corpse filled with dead fish." 

Sean grimaced. "Sorry. I was about to take a shower, but this is my only pair of jeans and they stink too."

Nanda pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. "Take some of Telma's clothes from the closet down there. She won't mind. It's all her old size anyway." 

"You, uh… think they'd fit me?" Sean raised an eyebrow. He'd seen childhood pictures of Telma, along with a few more recent ones, and nothing he'd seen made him think they had ever been the same size. 

Elena motioned for Sean to follow her. "You'd be surprised. My sister was basically a flat-chested twig in high school. And she loved to wear boy's clothes." She swung open the door, and pushed aside a bunch of hangers, revealing a collection of clothes toward the back. "When I was a kid, I asked her if she wanted to be a boy or something. She told me, 'no, I'm just a hardcore butch'. Of course I nodded, like I was cool and knew exactly what she meant, but I had no idea until years later. Here, take these and get rid of the stench." 

Sean rolled his eye and made his way to the bathroom. 

It was the most satisfying shower he had taken since Karen's hotel room in Haven Point. He hadn't realized exactly how hot, sore, and grimy he felt until the soothing spray of water rained down on him. 

Clean and refreshed, Sean returned to the kitchen wearing Telma's borrowed clothes--distressed jeans and an extremely faded Rage Against The Machine t-shirt. He found Elena setting the table for dinner, and Arturo having just arrived home with his briefcase. 

Why hadn't he ever thought to ask what Arturo did for a living? 

"Sit! Sit!" Nanda directed them all, bringing out a serving tray loaded with food. "Too hot to cook tonight, so we're having ceviche tostadas." 

Sean flopped into what had become his de facto seat at the table and made a special effort not to gag. He normally enjoyed ceviche, but after dealing with fish up close all day, he would have preferred almost anything else.

"So, how did your first day go?" Nanda asked, once everyone had dished up their food. 

"It was good. I, um… hadn't realized Arturo was the boss. So, that was a pretty big surprise." Sean looked to Arturo. 

"Manager, not boss," Arturo replied. "These days, I deal mostly with environmental groups, government agencies, and the cooperative's business concerns. It didn't seem relevant. The captains are in full charge of their crews and the day-to-day operations of their rigs." 

"Would have been cool to know anyway." Sean piled enough salsa on his tostada to cover the fish taste. "It sounds like you were some kind of savior of the fishing industry in Puerto Lobos." 

Arturo's face turned a deep shade of scarlet, all the way up to his receding hairline. "Someone is filling your head with tall tales. Many people had a hand in turning things around, not just me," he insisted, quietly. 

Nanda reached across the table and patted Arturo's hand. "He is too modest. And I didn't mention Arturo's connection because I didn't want you to think the job was some kind of handout. I knew once you saw how much hard work is involved, you would understand." 

"Yeah, it was a lot. And--" Sean cut himself off. He'd been about to mention his run-in with Rodrigo, but didn't want to be a narc--even if the guy was a dick. 

"And?" Nanda pressed. Arturo had already lost himself in his meal. 

"Just… it's great. Thanks, guys." 

Nanda sighed with relief. "Good. Is… everything else okay? We were worried when we didn't see you at all yesterday." 

"It was drama, drama, drama," Elena relayed. "Mom tried to recruit me to go investigate, but I told her you probably just wanted a day to yourself not to have her blabbing in your ear." 

Sean felt a stab of guilt. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I just… a friend had given me news about Daniel the night before, and it was a lot to process." 

"News?" 

Nanda and Elena leaned forward in their chairs simultaneously. Even Arturo glanced up from his plate. 

"I still don't know a lot," Sean began, "Finn had to make a ton of calls just to get me the information he did. The good news is, Daniel's not being charged with any crimes. He's not being detained. He's too young. It also seems like they haven't figured out he's… special." 

"Oh, thank God," Nanda whispered, "that poor little boy." 

Sean lowered his head. "The less good news is that Arizona CPS put him in temporary foster care. He's staying with some random family there until his… hearing thing on July 31. My grandparents petitioned for custody of him. But they're in another state, and courts are so backed up that he's got to stay with these strangers for three more weeks. I haven't been able to find out what happened to Karen, either. What if Daniel's scared or sad… or what if he accidentally reveals something?" 

Nanda inched her chair alongside Sean and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Daniel is strong. And he's learned a lot about taking care of himself. I'm sure they found him a nice family--maybe one with other kids he can play with. And if he knows about your grandparents, then he knows it's only temporary, right? To him, maybe it's not so different from, say, a summer camp." 

Sean let out a doleful laugh at Nanda's rosy projection. "I hope you're right. It is cool to know he's safe. And he'll probably end up with Stephen and Claire, which… he loved it there. It's just… so hard not to be able to talk to him, not to know exactly where he is, who he's with, and what he's doing." 

"The life of a parent." Nanda smiled sadly. "And you were Daniel's parent for many months. A remarkably good one, too, even though you're only a child yourself and were going through things no one should ever have to go through. I know this hurts, but... it's time for someone else to take up the mantle now. Trust Daniel. He's a Diaz too." 

Sean bit his lip. "Yeah, I know. I'm trying." 

"Give yourself time." Nanda scooted back to her place and returned to her meal. 

The remaining dinner conversation was carried by Elena and Nanda, largely focused on the antics of a local man who had apparently attempted to climb the lighthouse last night while naked and intoxicated. 

After helping with the dishes, Sean bid his cousins goodnight, leaving with an armful of Telma's old clothes, and the basket of his father's letters. 

* * *

"Fuck!" 

The house was pitch black and Sean tripped over a chair a few feet from the front door. "Why the fuck did I leave that there?" 

Tomorrow, he would bring a flashlight with him. 

He felt around for the lantern and flipped it on. Walking into the kitchen, he tucked the basket with Esteban's letters reverently inside an empty cupboard. Part of him was burning with curiosity and longing to read them immediately, but a larger part of him wasn't ready yet. 

Sean dragged himself upstairs and plopped down on his sleeping bag. 

In bed by 9 p.m., would this be his exciting new life as a fisherman? 

Sean reached for his phone. He would need to go back to Caborca sooner than expected to buy more minutes. He'd talked to Finn for nearly an hour yesterday, and even longer the day before.

Tonight, it was finally time to reach out to his best friend. He couldn't wait any longer to talk to her. And he had a gut feeling she needed to hear from him, too. He entered Lyla's number from memory and pressed call. 

"Yes?"

"Hey, it's Sean." 

"Oh my God, is it really you?" 

Sean let the sound of Lyla's voice encircle him like a blanket. He missed her, even more than he missed home.

"Yeah, it's really me," he replied. "Why… have you been getting a lot of fake calls or something?" 

"No, you asshole! But I haven't heard a word from you in over eight months and I've been worried sick. I was starting to think… maybe I'd never hear from you again." Her voice trembled. 

Sean let his head fall back against the pillow. "I'm so sorry, Lyla. So much fucked up shit happened, and it was too dangerous to reach out. But I'll never stop contacting you as long as you still want to hear from me. Promise." 

"Of course I want to hear from you, dipshit! Always. I have Google Alerts set up for you and Daniel and the news kept getting worse and worse. Were you really in a coma? Did you lose an eye? Did you join a cult? Are you in Mexico now?" 

Sean carefully relayed the events that had unfolded since he last spoke to Lyla from the Three Seals Motel. A lifetime of things had happened in such a short time. He omitted only the pieces of the story that involved Daniel's powers. Given how close Daniel and Lyla were, Sean figured Daniel would want to be the one to tell her himself. And even though he was fairly certain the FBI wasn't bothering to wire-tap Lyla after they'd lost contact for so many months, he didn't want to risk divulging any incriminating secrets over the phone. 

"That has gotta be the worst string of luck ever. So why do the cops or whoever think you did all this shit?" From Lyla's indignant tone, Sean could picture her pacing around her room. 

"It's... kind of… complicated. We didn't do most of the crimes they say we did, but… there's circumstantial stuff you should talk with Daniel about directly. In person. He'll probably be in Oregon in a few weeks. I know he'd go apeshit to see you again." 

To her credit, Lyla didn't press the issue. "Fuck. I can't believe you two are separated. Do you… is there any chance you'll be coming back home?" 

"I wish I could," Sean rasped. "But… if I don't want to spend a huge chunk of my life in a prison cell, this… this has got to be my home now." 

"I guess some part of me knew that. Ever since this happened, I've gone down a deep rabbit hole about the problems with our so-called criminal justice system. I've even been to protests, been writing letters. It felt like… like I had to do something tangible, you know? I couldn't just sit here." 

Sean's heart swelled with affection for her. "Because you're a good person, Lyla. An amazing person." His mind looped back to Daniel, and Daniel's crush on Lyla. "And I am the worst brother ever. I'm surprised you don't hate me. I hope Daniel doesn't hate me."

Lyla exhaled. "I don't hate you, and no way Daniel could ever hate you either. You always think everything is your fault, Sean, but it's not. Sorry to break it to you, dude, but you don't have that kind of power. I know you must have done everything you could for him. And no one can do more than that." 

"Thanks," Sean whispered. He wanted very badly to believe her. 

"What are best friends for?" After a long pause she prodded, "So, give me the deets on Mexico! You know I'll be coming to visit as soon as I can save up enough." 

Sean couldn't hold back a smile. "You'd better! You'll love the beaches here." He went on to describe what he'd experienced so far of the country, and Puerto Lobos in particular. He told her about the rundown house, his newfound family, and his first day of work as a fisherman. 

"So you're officially a high school dropout now?" Lyla asked. "I won't lie, I'm halfway jealous, but that also sucks 'cause you're like, ridiculously smart." 

"Maybe I'll get a certificate or whatever at some point, but yeah. Gotta make money right now. I don't want to be a fisherman forever, but I won't mind doing this for a while." Sean had been contemplating what Nanda had told him about the big space downstairs. "Okay, you're gonna laugh and think I'm crazy, and it's probably just a pipe dream, but I might want to eventually become a mechanic and convert the downstairs of Dad's place into a garage." 

Lyla gasped. "No freakin' way! What have you done with my Sean Diaz, the boy who is allergic to all things automotive?" 

Sean chuckled. "I dunno. I picked up more working in Dad's shop than I realized and… the idea feels right. There are no other repair shops in town. Maybe Dad's watching over me and would be proud. Like I told you, crazy."

"Nah, it's not crazy. Believe me, I know crazy. Your Dad would be proud of you no matter what. But I can totally see you rocking some coveralls, if you're feeling it." 

"Because being a mechanic is all about the outfit." Sean shook his head. "Enough about me, please. How are you? What's been going on, besides the criminal justice stuff?" 

"Struggling. Missing you. It's not your fault, but it sucks. Depression hit hard… but they switched me to new medications and things are going a little better. I don't know. Like, everything's still the same, but… nothing's the same without you." 

"Fuck. Lyla, I'm so--" 

"Don't. It's not your fault. And hearing from you right now makes me feel lighter already." A muffled sniffle came through the line. "Anyway, I've been skating a lot more since school let out. And the guys are determined that senior year is gonna kick ass." 

"I'm sure it will," Sean muttered. He pictured some alternate version of himself that had been able to stay in Seattle and was ready to enter senior year with his friends. Maybe with a girlfriend. Maybe as captain of the track team. Definitely with a sweet ride. Definitely with a Dad and little brother. 

His life was so far removed from that now, it felt less fantastical to imagine himself as a werewolf or space alien. 

"So… back to you again," Lyla insisted. "What's the girl situation in Puerto Lobos? Need any help or advice?"

"Um. Right. So. Well… the situation is that I actually discovered I'm into guys too. And right now, I'm into this one guy in particular." 

"What? Holy shit!" Lyla practically shouted into the receiver. "Start at the beginning and tell me everything." 

Sean did tell her everything. How he'd met Finn and they'd hit it off immediately, and grown closer and closer. How Sean had finally recognized his feelings were more than platonic, but the timing couldn't have been worse. That they'd kissed. That circumstances and their own stupid mistakes had forced them to say goodbye. That Finn was now stuck in San Diego on parole for the time being, but that he might be coming down to Mexico when he was free. 

"Damn." Lyla let out a low whistle. "That situation is beyond even Lyla The Love Witch. But I hope something works out. You deserve to be happy." 

"You do too. Maybe you'll end up in a whirlwind senior year romance." 

"Hah. If I can get myself together… maybe." 

Sean glanced regretfully at the phone's clock. "Fuck. I've gotta be to the dock at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow." 

"Alright, Captain Nemo. I'll let you go. But, please... don't wait so long to call me again. Not hearing from you kills me with worry."

"I know. I miss talking to you so much. I promise I'll call more regularly from now on." 

"You better. And let me know when my baby boy lands somewhere I can contact him." 

"I will. Love you, Lyla." 

"Yeah. Love you too, Ahab." 

Sean plugged in the phone to charge, smiled into his pillow, and managed to sleep until the alarm went off. 


	4. Letters from Esteban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean meets with his cousin Telma to discuss his legal situation. He learns some surprising information, prompting him to delve into Esteban's letters. When he does, an old family secret comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Content warning for this chapter: mention of a miscarriage.) 
> 
> I realize these first several chapters have been rather slow-paced. Part of that was my attempt to mirror the chill, exploratory vibes at the beginning of each episode of the game. But I also wanted to really linger on Sean's initial challenges in Puerto Lobos to help set the stage for what's coming. 
> 
> That said, there will be a slight time skip in the next chapter, and you can expect the action to pick up a bit of speed from there. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Sean ran.

The stretch of beach lay flat and straight for about a mile ahead. It was more crowded than Sean had ever seen it. Families, couples, and loners alike were spending their Sunday mornings splashing in the sea and soaking up the bright rays of sunshine. 

He wove through the crowd as he sprinted along the dry sand. His heart pumped and his lungs drew in the salty air with deliberate, rhythmic breaths, the way Coach Aaron had trained him. 

It had been too long. His boots were all wrong for it, and he was out of practice, but Sean couldn't recall the last time he felt this invigorated. Over the past eight months, he had run from cops, from bigots, to hop trains, and to catch Big Joe's work truck, but never for pleasure. 

The strenuous six-day work weeks he had now committed himself to would not allow much free time for running, but Sean would carve out as much as he could.  
  
Filled with euphoric momentum, he ran to the end of the beach and up the craggy hill leading to the red-and-white striped lighthouse. He tapped it with his fist, then turned and doubled back to his house. 

Sweaty and flushed, he wrangled the keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch inside.

He let out a blissful sigh. Lights. _Finally_. And running water too. He jogged over to the ancient-but-functional fridge and poured himself a glass of chilled water from the filtered pitcher Nanda had given him. 

Just as Sean was about to head upstairs for a shower, there was a loud knocking at the door. He jumped, and the empty glass clattered on the counter as he lost his grip on it.

Fuck. _Fuck!_ Was it the police? Were they here to apprehend him even though he'd just forked over a thousand-peso bribe? He glanced around the room, panicked. The walls were becoming a jail cell, closing in on him. Should he try to run? Where would he even go? 

"Sean?" A woman's voice called out, and a more gentle knock followed. 

Okay. That didn't necessarily sound like police-like. 

He crept to the door and opened it to find a stout young woman with a stoic expression and her arms folded across her chest. She wore black curls in a tousled undercut, and stared at Sean through thick-rimmed black glasses.

"Uh… hello?" he said, when she remained silent. 

She pointed at his chest. "Hey, that's my shirt. And those are my high school gym shorts!" Her lips curved into a tiny smile. "Cute, but I wore them better." 

"Wow." Sean surprised himself with a laugh. "Telma?" 

"In the flesh." She shook his hand firmly. No hug like Nanda and Elena. Sean couldn't blame her, especially given his current state. 

"Sorry I stink… just got back from a run." He stood aside to let her in, adding as he locked the door behind them, "Jesus, that was a badass knock. I thought you were the cops at first. Wasn't expecting to see you until lunch at Nanda's." 

"Oh, I'm on a boxing team and forget my own upper-arm strength sometimes." Telma took a seat in the cushioned armchair. "I got in from Mexico City late last night, couldn't sleep, and figured it'd be good if you and I could talk here, beyond the prying ears of the rest of the Diaz Vásquez household." 

"Yeah, that's cool." Sean pointed at the kitchen. "Hey, you want a drink or something? And by drink, I mean water 'cause that's all I got right now." 

Telma shook her head. "Nah, I had three coffees before coming over." 

Sean sat opposite her on the sofa. "So, your mom said you work for the Attorney General's office. You sure it's okay to talk with me about this stuff?" 

"Honestly, my boss probably wouldn't be thrilled, but I won't tell him if you don't. My work is with the Human Rights and Community Services division, so extradition of fugitives is not my area of responsibility, which is both good and bad. It's slightly less of an overt conflict for me, but if something escalates, it also limits how much I can do to intervene. But I won't turn you in." She winced. "God, Mamá would disown me. Twice." 

"No way! You should hear how she talks about you. But… thanks. I really appreciate the help." Sean stared down into his hands. "I have no clue about any of this." 

They fumbled their way through a few minutes of preliminary small talk, but Sean quickly surmised that Telma wasn't much for pleasantries and liked to get directly to the point of things. Another way she was like Arturo. 

"All right, then. Let's get down to details." Telma peered at him over the top of her glasses. "I hope that when you fled here, you knew that Mexico has an extradition treaty with the US." 

"Yeah. I did." Sean rubbed his still-sweaty forehead. "But I still felt like we--" He swallowed thickly and corrected himself. "Like I had nowhere else to go." 

"It actually might not have been the _worst_ idea of all time," Telma allowed graciously. "There are a few things that could work in your favor, here." 

"Really?" Sean leaned forward anxiously. 

"Maybe." Telma pulled out a manilla folder and pen from the portfolio bag she had brought with her. "In order to start extradition proceedings, the first thing the US authorities will need is your physical address here in Mexico." 

"They probably already have it." Sean grimaced. "They picked up Daniel wearing a t-shirt that said 'Space Mission to Puerto Lobos' on it, and my Dad's ownership of this place has gotta be on record somewhere, right?" 

"True," Telma agreed. "Let's assume, then, that they already know where you are. Next, they will have to issue a provisional arrest warrant on you. That compels the Mexican police to arrest you and hold you here temporarily."

Sean sprung to his feet immediately. "Shit! That's not good. So, they could bust in here any minute or any day and arrest me? Fuck!" He began to pace around the room.

"Take a breath, Sean. It's not as easy for them as it sounds. The provisional arrest warrant has to be submitted along with a draft of an extradition package, and that's where things are likely to get challenging for them." 

"Challenging?" Sean stopped pacing and fell back into the sofa. "How?" 

"Well, there are at least two ways it could fall apart. In order for the US Department of Justice to approve submitting an extradition request to us, the case against you has to be really strong. We're talking clear-cut evidence, eye-witness affidavits… a greater burden of proof than would be required to prosecute the case back in the US. Your country has fugitives across the world and relatively limited resources to obtain them. If the case against you isn't strong, the DOJ could decide you're not worth extraditing." 

Sean scoffed dubiously. "No idea how they could have solid evidence against me for shit I didn't do, but this officer back in Arizona said my case was 'filled to the brim' with it." 

"Hmm. It's possible the officer was 'filled to the brim' with bullshit, trying to coerce a confession or some information out of you." Telma tapped the end of her pen against her chin. "Wait, did you have an attorney present when they said that?" 

Sean shook his head.

"Questioning a minor without a guardian or attorney present. They fucked up there." Telma tsked and scribbled a note in her file. "That's potential grounds for an appeal if the extradition order ever makes it that far. But let's hope it doesn't get to that point." 

"Do you think there's any real chance it won't?" An empty ache throbbed in Sean's chest. His hope muscle was so over-taxed, it felt close to straining. 

"Yes. But that brings us to the second way it could fall apart. If the DOJ does decide to move forward with extraditing you, the order still has to be approved here in Mexico by the SRE--that's the Secretariat of Foreign Affairs. They'll do a separate review with a judge here on the Mexican side to determine if the case has sufficient merit. And if somehow it passes through that hoop too, you can still challenge it with an appeal. And the extradition will be put on hold until your appeal is complete," Telma explained.

"But, if that happened, I'd be stuck in a jail here, right?" Sean was dizzy with all this information. 

"Temporarily. If it comes to that." Telma pushed a wayward curl from her eyes. "But there's one more thing that works to your advantage. You can't be deported. A lot of times, that's the preferred alternative to get a US fugitive back from Mexico, because there's less red tape. But Mexican citizens can't be deported."  
  
"I'm not a Mexican citizen, though. And I don't have my birth certificate or anything else to prove I'm a Mexican national." Sean kicked the corner of the coffee table in frustration. "Fuck. I didn't think this through enough before I came." 

"Wait... you don't know, then?" Telma asked, confused. 

"Don't know what?" 

"You _are_ a Mexican citizen. Esteban and your mother registered you for dual citizenship at the Seattle consulate in January, 2004. I double-checked the records. It's official."  
  
"They… what? I don't remember. And I had no clue. Why the hell didn't Dad mention it? Why didn't Karen?" 

Telma shifted in her seat. "That's not for me to say. You could... ask Mamá. But you might want to read Esteban's letter to her during that time. She told me she gave them to you." 

A flicker of darkness traveled across Telma's gaze. What secret was she unwilling to divulge? 

"Do you know if Daniel, my brother, is a dual citizen too?" Sean asked, unsure why it even mattered to him anymore, but wanting to piece together the mystery anyway. 

"No. I did check that too, and he was never registered." 

"Weird," Sean said, softly. His mind had been gloriously clear after his run, but now it was a jumble of worry and confusion again. "So… what do I do now?" 

Telma leaned forward and patted Sean's knee. "Take a shower, come over to my parents' house, and have a beer with your meal. Or two. You look like you need more than water." She winked at him. Sean thought maybe there was a bit of Nanda in her, after all. "As for the rest of it, try to take things one at a time. Live your life. Rebuild here. Keep a good relationship with the local police if you can. And I'll contact Mamá if I hear or see anything come through related to you." 

"Couldn't you get in trouble for like, aiding and abetting me?" Sean frowned.

Telma shrugged. "Probably not. Unless you flee an arrest. Do you plan to do that?" 

Sean blew out a long breath. "No. I mean, there's nowhere else to run at this point." 

"I doubt it will come to that anyway." Telma gave him a reassuring nod. "Oh! We should also get you an INE card soon--that's the closest thing we have to a national ID. I'll try to find a workaround since you don't have your birth certificate."

"This is… you're..." Sean's speech faltered. "Thank you. So much. I don't know where I'd be without you guys. It feels like I don't deserve all this and I'm not sure how I'll ever repay--"

Telma held up a hand, gently cutting him off. "I remember your father. I was only three when Esteban moved away, but I have vivid memories of him coming over to visit before that. He would spin me around like an airplane until I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. All these years later, I've never forgotten." She sighed and stuffed the file folder back into her back. "Listen, I know Mamá goes overboard talking about family, but… ours is relatively small for this place. I was the only kid in my entire grade with no aunts, uncles, or cousins. Because of that, the family we do have is especially precious to us. And you're family, Sean." 

A wave of vicarious regret washed over Sean at the knowledge that his father could never reconnect with this family who loved him so much. That was followed by a flash of annoyance that Esteban had never mentioned their existence. And from the sound of it, that wasn't all he'd kept from Sean. 

"My life is one huge mess. And I still change my mind ten times a day about whether I did the right thing coming here. But finding you guys has been amazing." Sean gestured to his damp shirt. "If I wasn't gross right now, I'd totally hug you."

"You know, I'm not usually a hugger," Telma replied with a smile, "but I'd make an exception _if_ you weren't gross." She stood up and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Let's save the hug for lunch. Mamá will love it anyway." 

"Deal," Sean agreed, and walked his cousin to the door. 

* * *

Sean ran his fingertips along the tops of the dusty envelopes. Slowly, reverently, he counted them. Twenty-three in total. The postmarks ranged from March, 1995 through December, 2015. 

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and exhaled. Despite the heat and humidity, a shiver went through him. 

What information would he find contained in these letters? And how would his father feel about Sean reading them?

He picked up the oldest letter, slipped it from the envelope, and carefully unfolded it. The sight of the Spanish words scrawled in his father's distinctive handwriting made Sean tear up. He kissed his fingertips and brushed them against the ink on the page.

_Miss you so much, Dad._

He took the letter with him to the sofa and sat down to read. 

> _March 3, 1995_
> 
> _Dear Nanda,_
> 
> _I'm sorry it has taken me a few months to write. Things got crazy, and not in a fun way. (Not like that lost weekend in Hermosillo!)_
> 
> _Since I couldn't bring my sweet ride with me, and I had to spend all my cash getting across the border, I ended up hitchhiking and walking for a week. I know, I know. I can picture your disapproving face now. And that face will get worse when I tell you that one guy pulled a switchblade on me. Lucky for me, he didn't get pissed when he found out I was broke. Lucky for him, he didn't try to take my lighter. Things might have gotten ugly._
> 
> _I'm out in East L.A now, renting an attic room from a nice family from Trincheras. Small world, huh? So many Mexicans here, it almost feels like home, if home had smog and lots of traffic._
> 
> _I'm kidding! Mostly kidding._
> 
> _I do miss the placid beauty of our town. Even more, I miss you and Arturo, and of course my sweet little lady Telma. Please give her a big hug and kiss from me. Hope the three of you are well._
> 
> _As difficult as it was to leave, I'm more certain than ever that I made the right decision. The opportunity out here is incredible. So many cars in this place, and lots of garages hiring. I landed a job at a good one not far from where I'm staying, and I've already earned more than I could in half a year working my tail off in Puerto Lobos._
> 
> _I've seen enough to know that L.A. won't be my permanent home. This city is not what I have in mind for settling down and raising a family, but it's a great place to hang my hat and save up while I figure out my next move._
> 
> _The future is bright and adventure awaits!_
> 
> _With much love,_
> 
> _Esteban_

Sean wiped his wet cheek with the back of his hand. His father had started a new life with next to nothing. And while he had been several years older than Sean was, he hadn't even had family to connect with. 

It was… inspiring. 

Sean returned to the kitchen, carefully placing the letter back in its envelope. He eyed the next-to-oldest letter, but reconsidered. He wanted to take his time and relish these rather than burning through them in one sitting. And he had a mystery to solve and a family lunch to attend. 

He sifted through the stack again, studying the postmarks. Most years there was only one letter, some years there were two, and a few years there were none. But for some reason, there were three letters from 2004.

There was no rule that he had to read these chronologically. He took out the first letter from 2004 and returned to the sofa with it. 

> _February 2, 2004_
> 
> _Dear Nanda,_
> 
> _Exciting news! We are coming back to Puerto Lobos for a visit, the last week in May. Can't wait to experience a Puerto Lobos sunset with Karen, or to help Sean build a castle in the sand I used to play in when I was his age._
> 
> _I might just be a little proud to show them off to you as well._
> 
> _Karen and I took Sean to the consulate and officially registered him for dual citizenship. We figured it will make travel to Mexico easier, now and in the future, especially if he needs something while we're there. Besides, options are always a good thing, right? I want my son to have as many as possible._
> 
> _I will send more details of our trip when we have them. Karen doesn't mind "roughing it", so we will probably stay in the old place even without furniture. It's been too long. Looking forward to seeing you, Arturo, Telma, and of course, meeting your little Elena._
> 
> _Chill two beers for us!_
> 
> _With much love,_
> 
> _  
> _ _Esteban_

Sean replaced the letter and moved on to the next one, handling it delicately with his shaking hands, even though a part of him wanted to just tear it open so he could read the contents faster. 

> _April 23, 2004_
> 
> _Dear Nanda,_
> 
> _This letter is going to be one of those good news/bad news type things._
> 
> _And since I know you always like to get the bad news out of the way first, here goes nothing. We have to postpone our trip to Puerto Lobos indefinitely. I know. Huge bummer. But when you hear the good news, I think you'll understand._
> 
> _We are expecting another baby! Karen is three months along, and while that normally would be no reason to cancel a trip, she has been very sick with this pregnancy. It's not like it was with Sean. Perhaps our new little one is going to be on the feisty side!_
> 
> _We've decided it's best to stay close to home._
> 
> _I wish I could promise we will reschedule for next year, but as you know all too well, travelling with a newborn is, frankly, a pain in the ass. It's part of why we waited until now with Sean._
> 
> _While I can't say exactly when we will be able to visit, I am overjoyed that when we do, there will be one more Diaz for you all to meet. Miss you much, cousin. Wish I could share in this happiness with you sooner._
> 
> _Please give the girls a hug and a kiss for me._
> 
> _With much love,_
> 
> _Esteban_

  
  


What. The. Fuck? This time, Sean didn't bother stuffing the letter back into the envelope before moving on to the next and final communication from 2004. 

> _July 9, 2004_
> 
> _Dear Nanda,_
> 
> _This is an impossible letter to write. I can hardly find the words, but I want you to know. We lost the baby._
> 
> _I am devastated. Karen is inconsolable. I wish I could do more for her. We have each other, at least. Her doctor says there is no reason we can't have another, but that is cold comfort now. It is too soon, and even if it weren't, the kernel of hope in the possibility cannot make up for the piece of our hearts we've lost._
> 
> _Meanwhile, I feel for our little Sean. He's such a sensitive boy. So quiet and thoughtful, he watches the world around him like a hawk, and is more perceptive than many adults I know. He can sense there is something the matter, something serious, but he does not know what is wrong or how to fix it for us. I ache to put things back to normal for him soon. Or at least, as close to normal as they can be._
> 
> _Some day, I hope he'll have a chance to be the amazing big brother I know he could be._
> 
> _There is too much more to say, and not enough words, so I will stop there._
> 
> _With much love,_
> 
> _  
> _ _Esteban_

The page fell from Sean's hand and fluttered to the cushion beside him. It felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

A faint, long-forgotten memory prickled at the back of Sean's mind. He was three-and-a-half. He couldn't sleep, and stumbled out of his room to find both his parents sobbing together on the couch. He tried to get them to play, tried to make them smile, but it just made them cry harder. He hadn't understood.

Why had no one ever talked about this? Never told him? Maybe not when he was three, but later. 

Maybe they had simply been too heartbroken. 

Sean remembered not telling Daniel about Esteban, and on some level, he thought he understood. Parenthood was a fucked-up, complicated balancing act between being honest with your kid and wanting to protect them. 

Maybe he could ask Karen about this one day. Though he didn't want to open old wounds, they had certainly talked about plenty of other painful history recently, and that had been healing for them both.

His limbs heavy and numb, Sean gathered and returned all three letters to the basket in the kitchen. He placed it back in the cupboard. 

On auto-pilot, he put on his boots, and his feet found their way to the door. 

As the fresh air and vivid sunlight helped pull Sean back to the present, he started to make the now-familiar trek to Nanda's house. 

He had a hug to collect. More than one, he hoped. 


	5. I Hope You'll Be Happy in Mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean finds himself depressed about his seventeenth birthday, until he gets a surprise.

"You don't look seventeen," Sean muttered to himself in the bathroom mirror. "Shit… I'm not even sure what age this looks like. Nineteen going on Ninety? Gotta do something about those dark circles." 

He smoothed fingertips over the well-groomed scruff on his jaw, then raked a hand through his shaggy mop of dark hair. Maybe he should let Elena cut it after all. She'd been begging to give him a makeover for weeks, but Sean hadn't seen much point to it.

Like, who the fuck was he going to impress, the fish? 

It wasn't that Sean had no friends in Puerto Lobos. His fellow deckhands were mostly cool, with the exception of Rodrigo, who continued to act like an ass. He and Elena had grown even closer over the past month, and her friends were a fun group to hang out with, but he couldn't help feeling out of place. Sitting around the bonfire, drinking beer, most of them would gripe about their strict Catholic parents, or chat excitedly about starting senior year soon. Meanwhile, Sean was a dropout who lived alone, worked six-days a week on a fishing boat, and spent his paltry spare time grappling with what he should do with his life… such as it had become. 

He somehow doubted a haircut could make him fit in any better. 

Sean frowned at his reflection. _Seventeen_. Maybe this would be the year he stopped celebrating birthdays for good. 

After Karen left, Sean hadn't been much into birthdays. But his dad always made a big, embarrassing deal of them anyway. _God_. He would give anything to have Esteban make a fuss over him one more time. 

He was pretty sure no one in town even knew today was his birthday. He hadn't mentioned it to his cousins, nor to any of the Huixtocihuatl crew. 

He peered out the window at the still-dark sky and sighed. It would be just like any other Tuesday. A workday. 

Sean traipsed down to the kitchen, started some coffee going in the cheap drip-maker he'd procured from the local thrift shop, popped a slice of bread in the toaster, and put a skillet on the burner to fry a couple of eggs. 

As he cooked his breakfast, he contemplated the basket of Esteban's letters on the counter. He'd been rationing them, limiting himself to one per week so that he wouldn't finish them too quickly. 

Once his meal was ready, Sean set down his plate on the counter, took out the letter he'd opened yesterday, and read it again.

> _February 2 , 1997_
> 
> _Dear Nanda,_
> 
> _Big news! I know, I know. I have big news every time I write to you. Maybe one day I'll send a boring letter about what I ate for dinner and watched on TV. But not today!_
> 
> _I've decided it's time to leave L.A._ _Yes, the work here has been steady, and this community is lively. I've had a good run, saved up a healthy chunk of change. Still, there is more of this amazing country to see, and if I don't move on soon, I may sprout roots and grow so complacent that I miss my chance._
> 
> _Besides, if I'm going to own my own garage someday, I doubt it could happen here. Too much competition, and the real estate is too pricey and political._
> 
> _My friend Sam (the funny guy I met at Pedro's) is from Oregon, and he's headed back there. He invited me to crash with him for a while, and I figure it can't hurt to check the place out._
> 
> _Did I mention it's snowing up there? Real snow! Wish I could pack some into an envelope and send it to you._
> 
> _I'll be in touch again after I get settled._ _Kisses to all, and an extra one for Telma. Miss you, always._
> 
> _With much love,_
> 
> _Esteban_

Sean took a slug of his coffee and stabbed a slippery egg with his fork. 

_Oregon_. The place where his parents had met. Although he didn't know when they met, he figured a first mention of Karen would be appearing in one of his dad's letters any time now. He tried to picture what the two of them must have been like back then, young and unattached. 

A pang settled in his chest, and Sean realized he was missing both of his parents. Almost as much as he missed Daniel. 

As grateful as he was to have reconnected with Karen, saying goodbye to her all over again had been like reopening a wound. But it wasn't like he'd never see her again. He just had to figure out how to get in touch. 

After finishing his last bite of toast, Sean quickly washed his plate, mug, and utensils by hand, then dashed out the front door just in time for work. 

* * *

"Teo's off today. And it's gonna be a damn windy one," Captain Álvarez said by way of greeting, as Sean boarded the boat hauling two heavy sacks of ice. 

"Maybe that means the ice won't melt as quick, Captain," Sean replied with a respectful head tilt, then made his way down to the ship's hold. 

He found Manny, Carlos, and Juanita gathered around Rodrigo, who was scowling even more than usual. 

"I hear the mayor's planning to slather the sides of the lighthouse with lard or oil so he can't climb it anymore. Can you imagine having that job?" Manny laughed and pointed at Rodrigo. "I'd say maybe your brother could be a candidate, but that'd be redundant. It'd be a lot less trouble if he just greased himself."

"Fuck. You." Rodrigo clenched his fists and stormed off, above decks. 

"Ouch… that was a dick move," Juanita chastised, punching Manny in the arm. Sean suspected, not for the first time, that the two of them were more than friends. 

"Look, if his brother hadn't been drunk and trying to climb the lighthouse naked for the third time in a month, Teo wouldn't have been out until all hours rescuing him, and we wouldn't be one man short." Manny took the sacks of ice from Sean and stacked them with the rest. 

Sean walked over to Carlos, joined him in adding ice to the buckets on the floor, and leaned in to whisper, "Wait, are they saying that drunk lighthouse-climbing guy everyone in town talks about… that's Rodrigo's little brother?" 

Carlos nodded. "Yep. I went to high school with him up until three years ago, when he dropped out. It was the middle of our sophomore year. Dude's name's Rogelio. He used to be an okay guy, but I guess now he's kinda like the town drunk." 

"Hey! Enough gossiping, boys." Juanita clapped her hands together. "Let's get these buckets up." 

"Aye, aye," Carlos said with only the barest hint of an eye roll as he complied. Sean followed silently behind him. 

The captain was waiting for them above deck. "All right, crew. Between the unpredictable August winds and being short-handed, we're gonna have our work cut out for us today. Juanita's rigger, as always. Manny and Carlos, you two are on nets. Rodrigo and Sean, I want both of you icing and storing." 

With a murmur of assent from the crew, they set sail. The day was busy, and the wind made the trawling more of a challenge. After the first haul was sorted, Sean and Rodrigo brought the catch down to the hold to put on ice. 

"You wanna fucking say something, Diaz?" Rodrigo sniped, as soon as they were alone. "Everyone else has. You might as well get your potshot in too." 

"I, uh… I have a little brother too," Sean blurted out, then cringed.

_Why the fuck had he said that?_

"Oh, yeah? Good for you. A real fucking marvel of nature your parents pulled off by having multiple offspring." Rodrigo started packing mackerel inside dense blocks of ice.

"I just mean… I know it can be tough, being the older brother. That's all," Sean finished quietly, turning his attention to the fish. 

"You don't know shit," Rodrigo snarled. "You don't have to take care of your little brother like a parent because your parents are dead. You don't have to worry about his future, and all the goddamn trouble he gets into."

Sean swallowed thickly. "That's true… I don't. Not anymore. But I did. For a while. And I would, again. If it was possible. If he would have let me." 

Rodrigo studied him, his scowl gradually vanishing. "How old's your brother? Where's he at now?" 

"He's ten," Sean answered, lowering his eyes. He hadn't told anyone on the crew about Daniel before and he wasn't sure why he was starting now, especially with Rodrigo. But he couldn't stop himself. "He's back in the States with our grandparents. They got formal custody of him a couple weeks back." 

"Damn. Is he… is everything okay with them?" 

Sean nodded. "Yeah. I mean, they're not perfect, but they're good people. And they dote on my brother." 

"Be glad he's in good hands, then," Rodrigo said, and it was the first time Sean had ever heard him speak without malice or sarcasm. After a long pause, he added, "We have family in Guatemala, and I wonder what would've happened if I'd sent Rogelio to live with them after… maybe they could have helped him more than me." 

"You're brothers. I'm sure you guys needed each other more than anything," Sean said. 

"Yeah, I used to think so. But now… who the fuck knows?" Rodrigo stiffened, clearly having shared more than he intended, and coughed. "Anyway, time to get back." 

He was already halfway up the steps before Sean had a chance to respond. 

* * *

The ship returned to dock a couple of hours earlier than usual, due to the wind. Fortunately, the fish had been out in force, and they had managed to meet their quota despite the truncated day. 

After helping with load-out and clean up, Sean made his way to the truck and set a small, icy parcel beside him on the passenger seat. As a perk, Captain Álvarez let the crew have their pick of any fresh bycatch that was too small to sell at market. Fish wasn't Sean's favorite, but he couldn't afford to be picky on his current budget.

He debated stopping by Nanda's house, but decided he wasn't in the mood for company tonight. Not even his cousins. He just wanted to be alone. A beer, a simple dinner, and quick phone calls to Lyla and Finn--both of whom would be pissed if he didn't give them a chance to wish him "Happy Birthday". Then this stupid day could be behind him. 

As he pulled up beside his house, he noticed a rusted jalopy with Arizona plates parked out front. A thrill of anticipation went through him. He switched off the ignition and scrambled out of the car. 

Karen was waiting for him on the porch. She wore a tentative smile, as if unsure of her welcome. 

Sean flung himself into her arms without hesitation. "Mom?" he whispered, holding her tight, afraid she would be a figment of his imagination. 

"Sean." She reciprocated his firm embrace, and kissed the top of his head. "Happy Birthday." 

"How…how did you get here? How did you find me?" He pulled back just enough to gaze into her face.

She cupped his cheek. "There's a lot to tell you. But why don't we get settled in, first?" 

A gust of wind blew past them, and Sean was reminded of the strong odor of fish and sea that clung to him. "I'm a deckhand," he said by way of explanation, and held up the parcel of fish he was clutching. "Brought some fish home for dinner." 

Karen's eyes widened. "Great. How about you let me make us dinner, while you take a shower, then we can get caught up?" 

"Yeah. Okay." He still couldn't believe she was here. "Wait… what about Daniel? Have you--" 

"Yes. I saw him just last week. And he's fine, Sean." Karen gestured to the door. "But let's talk about it over dinner, okay?" 

Sean blew out a breath between his teeth. He was desperate for news, but he knew his mom must be tired after the drive. He opened the locks and let her in. 

"Home sweet home," he announced, flipping on the light switch and extending his arms. Despite his sarcastic tone, Sean had actually grown rather fond of the place. There was a hodge-podge of mismatched used furniture and appliances, but it was comfortable and homey. And it was his. 

"Wow… this is it, huh?" Karen looked around, curious. "Bigger than I expected. And more furnished!" 

Sean recalled his father's letters and wondered if she was thinking about their thwarted attempt to visit back in 2004. "Let me give you the quick tour," he offered, sticking the fish in the fridge. 

They walked through the kitchen and living room, with Sean pointing out some of the second-hand finds he was most proud of. He led her up the stairs and showed her the bathroom, his bedroom--which now had an actual bed rather than just a sleeping bag--and the large, vacant spare room he had yet to do anything with. 

"This is a great space. Tons of potential," Karen said. 

"Yeah." Sean refrained from adding what he was thinking, that it would have had more potential if Daniel was here with him. "Are you staying over tonight?" 

"I figured I would, if that's okay. We can visit longer that way." 

"Definitely. You take my bed."

"Uh-uh. I'm not putting you out of your bed. Especially on your birthday," Karen said, reaching out to brush a wayward lock back from Sean's forehead. "Besides, that couch looks comfy." 

"It is." Sean stared at his mom, part of him still worried she might mysteriously volatilize. "I can't believe you're really here. Thank you... for coming." 

"Of course. I missed so many of your birthdays, Sean. I'm glad I could be here for this one." She glanced back toward the stairs. "Why don't you take your shower, and I'll get started on dinner. Did you have something in mind to cook?" 

Sean shrugged. "I put the fish in the fridge. They're little ones, but freshly caught. I was gonna maybe make some rice to go with it. I don't exactly have a stocked pantry, but you can do whatever you want with what's there." 

"All right. A challenge, then. One birthday dinner, coming up!" She patted his shoulder and headed back downstairs, leaving Sean to his shower. 

* * *

Feeling refreshed and dressed in a clean t-shirt and jeans, Sean headed downstairs to find Karen standing beside a boiling pot on the stove. She was looking intently at the basket filled with Esteban's letters. 

_Shit_. He'd forgotten those were there. 

After an awkward pause, he walked over and picked up the basket. "These are all letters Dad wrote to Nanda. She gave them to me. Did you, uh... read any of them?" 

"No," Karen said softly, and turned to check the contents of the pot. "Did you?" 

"Some. I'm kinda working my way through them slowly, from oldest to newest." Sean put the basket back up in the cupboard where he normally kept it. "So, you knew about Nanda and Arturo, then? Elena and Telma?"

"Yes," Karen admitted. "I guess I should have said something to you. But I hadn't heard a word about them in nearly a decade. That's a long time. I didn't know what the situation might be down here, and after everything, I couldn't bear to get your hopes up… or Daniel's." 

Sean rubbed his forehead. That made sense. Daniel would have latched on to the idea of family and then been sorely disappointed if it hadn't panned out. 

"Mom… I, uh... not to get into your business, but I read the letters from 2004." He awaited her reaction. 

"Oh." Karen took the pot off the stove and set it on a trivet. "I guessed you might have." She turned to face him. "That was such an awful time, Sean. You were too young to understand what was going on. Then, when you got older, I guess we didn't see much point in telling you." She shook her head. "No, that's a cop-out. It was too damn hard to talk about it, and we didn't want to." 

Sean grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed her one. "I'm not mad or anything, just… sorry I didn't know. Did all of that, I mean… did it have anything to do with why you left?"

She popped open the can and took a swig. "Actually, it's a part of why I stayed as long as I did. Shortly after the miscarriage, I began to feel on some level how lost I was. But I also… felt like I owed Esteban another child. He was such a great father and he wanted a big family. None of this was something I thought about consciously. I wasn't self-aware enough yet in those days. But deep down, I guess it did register as an obligation I had to fulfill." 

Sean gulped down a good portion of his own beer. "And now? Do you… feel like it was a mistake?" 

"Having Daniel? No!" Karen insisted. "I've never for a minute regretted having Daniel. I'm sure that sounds strange, since I left so soon after he was born, but I've always been grateful he exists. Always loved him. My leaving was never about either of you." 

"Yeah… I get that now," Sean said, and found he actually meant it. He pointed to the pot on the trivet. "So, what's for dinner?" 

"Sushi. I saw you had the makings for it, and figured there's nothing better to do with fresh fish." She dumped the rice into a bowl, then poured some rice vinegar and seasoning over top, and stirred it with a wooden spoon. 

Sean grinned. "Awesome. I picked up all that on my last trip to Caborca a couple of weeks ago. It's kind of weird, but I made friends with this awesome lady who owns a bodega, Paola--she was the first person I met in Mexico, you'd love her. She hooked me up with the sushi stuff. But I haven't had the guts to actually try making it yet. I was nervous about fucking up the ratios." 

Karen had already cleaned and sliced the fish while Sean was in the shower. She began assembling the sushi. Sean set down plates and chopsticks for each of them at the counter, then watched his mom finish preparing a platter for them. She deftly rolled maki and formed nigiri. "Whoa! Where did you learn that? So cool." 

She laughed. "Self-taught. I've had a lot of practice over the years. It's hard to get fresh enough fish at Away, though. For special occasions, I can make do with flash frozen."

When it was all ready, Sean pulled out one of the counter stools for Karen and sat on the other himself. He dipped a piece of nigiri in soy sauce and ate it in a single bite. It melted in his mouth. "Mmm. This is so tasty." 

"Good." Karen ate a piece of maki roll herself. "So... birthday boy, we have lots to catch up on. Where do you want to start?" 

_Daniel_. That was where he really wanted to start, but he suddenly found himself afraid to ask. Afraid he might get confirmation that his brother hated him, or was mad at him. 

Instead, he asked, "What happened with the police and that whole Haven Point thing? Did you have any problems crossing the border? How did you find me here?" 

"The police only held me overnight. They spent hours grilling me about you and Daniel. I don't think they even cared about the supposed arson." Karen rolled her eyes. "The investigators in Nevada determined that an altar candle had started the fire. They have no solid evidence, but I got the impression they suspect Lisbeth of starting it herself. I learned they've been investigating the church for a while. Your friend Jacob stepped up and volunteered some testimony about her that worked in our favor. Are you still in touch with him?" 

"Not since that letter he sent me in Away. I've been trying to track down a number for him," Sean said. He washed down another piece of sushi with a sip of beer. 

"Here, let me give you the one I have for him. And mine, too. I got a burner, just for you to get in touch with me if you ever need to." Karen reached for her bag, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, copied down a couple of numbers, then slid it across the counter to Sean. 

Sean blinked down at the inky scrawl, and something warm and hopeful bubbled inside him. He'd been gradually losing his grip on the tether to his old life. But being able to call Karen and Jacob, as well as Finn and Lyla would help him keep hold of it.

"Where was I?" Karen continued. "Right… so, getting across the border was nothing. I thought they'd have my name flagged up in some database or something, but the checkpoint guard barely glanced at my passport before waving me through. Perks of being a middle-aged white lady. I'm expecting more of a hassle getting back, but who's to say I wasn't just in Sonora for window shopping?" 

Sean's brow furrowed in concern. "Could they apprehend you or something?" 

"Nah. They might detain me for questioning for a bit. But even if they suspect I was visiting you, I didn't commit any crime. Don't worry." Karen squeezed Sean's hand. "But... this does circle back to how I found you. I went to Seattle, Sean. It's hard to tell you this, but your house there had already been foreclosed." 

"Yeah, I kinda figured," Sean replied, glumly. 

"I did get in touch with Sam, though. Of course, I hadn't seen him since I left, and he had a few choice words for me. In the end, it was good for us to talk things out… and to talk about Esteban." Karen dug through her bag again, this time withdrawing a small accordion file which she handed to Sean. "Nothing was supposed to be removed from the house, but Sam used his spare key to retrieve some important things. He knew you would want these." 

Sean set down his chopsticks. He opened the folder, removed the contents and spread them out on the counter before him. Dozens of recent, loose family photos were the first thing to catch his attention, and tears blurred his vision at the sight of the happy Diaz trio. He felt Karen's hand on his shoulder. 

"In addition to the pictures, there are some legal documents I thought you might need. There's your birth certificate, Esteban's birth certificate… the deed to this house. The deed is how I found your address." She went quiet, allowing Sean a few minutes to look through everything.

"Thanks, Karen… Mom. This is great. The birth certificates are exactly what I need to get a Mexican ID." Reluctantly, Sean pushed the papers and photos aside to look through later. 

Gazing into Karen's face, he broached the topic he'd been burning to discuss all evening. "Can you tell me about Daniel? I… know he wasn't charged with anything. I know he's with Claire and Stephen now, but that's it." 

Karen clasped both of Sean's hands between her own. "My parents were awarded permanent custody last month, but the judge set some strict conditions. Daniel's got to wear a mandatory GPS anklet. He can travel freely within the States, but he'll be tracked until he's 18. He's also restricted from leaving the country before he turns 18, and… he's forbidden to have any contact with you until then as well." 

_Fuck_. Sean let out a choked out sob. That was eight years. "Is he safe? Do the authorities know about… his powers?" 

"He's safe for now. I don't think they know. Those idiots are too fixated on you to see what's right under their noses." Karen clenched her jaw in anger. "Even the restrictions they put on Danny are about you. They think the two of you won't be able to resist finding each other, and he'll lead them right to you… but you have to, Sean. You have to resist." 

Sean hopped off the stool and paced. "I miss him so much already. It hurts every day. I can't wait eight fucking years to see him or talk to him again. I can't… " He scrubbed the back of his hand against his wet cheeks. "Maybe I should turn myself in. Just… suck it up and go to prison. I can't wait that long to tell Daniel I'm sorry. I have to make sure he doesn't hate me." 

"Oh, Sean. Honey... Daniel could never hate you. What would even make you think that?" 

"He just left me! We were almost to the border and he fucking bailed. After _everything_. Why would he have done that if I hadn't failed him? If he didn't hate me?" Sean turned his back to the fridge and collapsed against it. "We were supposed to stick together no matter what." 

Karen approached holding a tablet. It looked like the same one she'd borrowed in Haven Point. "Come sit on the couch with me. I was saving this for after dinner, but I think we're done now, yeah?" 

"Yeah." Sean couldn't imagine eating another bite. On shaky legs, he followed his mother to the living room and sat beside her.

She wrapped an arm around Sean and held the tablet between them. After fiddling around with the photo app for a minute, she brought up a video. A still of Daniel's face filled the screen, with the wallpaper of Karen's old bedroom at the Reynolds' house in the background. 

"When I told your brother I would be coming to visit you, he begged me to help him make this for you," Karen told Sean. "For now, Claire and Stephen are trying to adhere to the judge's orders, so Daniel and I had to make this after they went to sleep." 

She pressed play. 

Daniel stared into the camera. "Hi, Sean. I-I miss you. So much. Please, _please_ don't be mad at me." 

"Enano," Sean whispered, touching his fingertips to his brother's image on the screen.

"I know how much you wanted to go to Mexico, but I… couldn't. When I woke up in that jail, before I found you, I heard some of the guards talking. They said you were gonna be behind bars for a long time!" Daniel broke down crying, and Karen's hand appeared from off-screen to wipe his face with a tissue. "When we got to the border and all those police were there… I didn't know what to do! I was so scared, Sean. But then you told me to always do the right thing, t-to be smart. And I thought… I could be the one to give up and get you to Mexico! L-like Superwolf would do!" 

"Daniel." Tears rolled down Sean's face. Karen made a move to pause the video, but Sean shook his head. 

"I hoped if I told the truth, I could get the police to forgive us, and you could come back home with me. But now I guess… I guess that was pretty dumb." Daniel rubbed his eyes. He was clearly exhausted.  
  
"You wanna stop? I know it's late. We can try again tomorrow." Karen's voice asked in the background of the video. 

"No, gotta finish this," Daniel said, determined. He sat up straighter. "I told the police stuff was an accident, that you never hurt anyone, but they didn't believe me. They didn't believe me about anything. And the mean way they talked about you… I don't think they're ever gonna believe us, Sean. 

"I-I didn't end up telling them about my powers. I… it felt like it would be bad to tell them. Like it wouldn't help. And I remembered the rules. And how you said always listen to my gut. So I did.  
  
"Now, I'm here with Grandma and Grandpa, and that part makes me happy. And I get to play with Chris, too! But the judge said I'm not supposed to talk to you, and I can't come to Mexico until I'm a grown-up. I didn't think it was gonna turn out like this, Sean. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" 

A fresh round of tears began, with Karen comforting Daniel from behind the tablet camera. 

It was a knife in Sean's gut to see his brother in so much pain.

Glistening, brown eyes gazed back into the camera, and Daniel spoke again. "I know you wanna come get me, Sean. Like you always do. But--don't. Not this time. I miss you… but I want you to be happy in Mexico. Not in jail! We'll see each other again. When I'm old enough. And before that, we can pass secret messages, like this. Nothing can keep the wolf brothers apart, right?" Daniel drew his little lips into a wobbly line. "P-promise. Please. Promise you won't come back. I love you, Sean." 

The screen went black. There was nothing but the sound of Sean's weeping for several, long minutes, as Karen held him in her arms. 

Finally, Sean withdrew from the embrace and sat back, stunned. "He really wasn't trying to get away from me. He was trying to save me." He remembered the morning in the canyon, and Daniel's little addition to the wolf brothers' story about the police forgiving them. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. 

"I told you he wanted to be equals," Karen murmured. "This was his way of trying to make that happen. For once, he thought he could be the hero for you. I know this hurts. I know you miss him. Right now, eight years probably seems like forever to you, but--" 

"But trying to get back to see him won't help either of us. Fuck." Sean closed his eye. "Do you... do you think he'll be happy in Beaver Creek? I know you hated growing up there." 

Karen took her time answering. "Yes. I do. He's already good friends with that little boy next door. He loves my parents, and they adore him. Why wouldn't they? He's the naturally sweet and polite child that I had to twist myself into knots to become." She let out a long breath. "All of the things I found stifling about growing up there, Daniel will probably find comforting. The structure, the boundaries. And… if your brother sometimes needs a break from things, he can always come to visit me at Away." She gave Sean's shoulder a squeeze. "He misses you, and will continue to miss you, profoundly. You're the most important person in his world. But you two will find ways to work around the rules and stay connected. I'll help however I can." 

"Thanks." Sean glanced down at the tablet. "I'd like to record a video to send back to him… would that be okay?" 

"Yes. I'll take it to him myself. But let's give it a few minutes, huh? So it doesn't look like you've been crying." 

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Good plan." 

Karen glanced back toward the kitchen. "Should we do presents now?" 

"Presents?" Sean repeated in confusion.

"It's your birthday. I didn't come empty-handed. Stay here, and I'll be right back." She returned a moment later with her duffel bag. 

"You don't… you didn't have to get me anything," Sean protested. "Just coming here was enough. And that video of Daniel." 

"I didn't have to. But I wanted to, so I did." Karen handed him a heavy, rectangular package, covered in colorful wrapping paper. "Now, don't get too excited. It's used, but I thought it would come in handy."

Sean slowly peeled away the wrapping to reveal a plain, white cardboard gift box. He took off the lid and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Your laptop? This is yours, right?" 

"It was. Now it's yours. David's already cobbling together another one for me to use for work." She helped pull it out of the box for Sean, along with the power supply. "I know it's old, and nothing fancy, but I figured you could use it down here."

"This is awesome. It'll help me stay in touch. It'll help with a lot of stuff. Thank you!" Sean was blown away. He hadn't even allowed himself to fantasize about having a computer again any time soon. "Maybe… maybe Daniel and I can figure out some way to talk online." 

"Maybe you can. I'm glad you like it." 

Next, Karen handed him a large, blue piece of construction paper that had been folded in half to make a card. The handwriting in red crayon on the front was achingly familiar.

> _TO: SEAN_
> 
> _HAPPY_ ~~_BIRTDAY_ ~~ _BIRTHDAY!_ _  
> _ _  
> _ _LOVE: DANIEL_

Inside the folded page was a crayon drawing of two wolves. The bigger one had an eyepatch and was walking down a narrow path, alone. The little one was wearing a cape, lingering behind. 

At the top, in big letters, it read: **_SILVER RUNNER'S SECRET MISSION_ **

"Damn. Must have taken him forever to make this." Sean traced his finger along the art. "He's such a cool little kid." 

"He is," Karen agreed. "Okay, I'm going to leave you to open this last present while I go take care of the dishes." She stood and handed him a turquoise envelope that was unmistakably birthday-card shaped, and bore Claire's delicate penmanship. 

The front of the card had stylized, embossed block lettering

> **GR**
> 
> **AND**
> 
> **SON**

The printed message inside the card read:

> _You are loved. Hear it. Believe it. Count on it. And never, ever forget it._
> 
> _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_

Sean's hand trembled and he sighed in relief. It was only upon reading those words that he recognized how worried he'd been that Claire and Stephen hated him, too. A folded piece of paper dropped from the card onto his lap. He unfurled it, and found ten crisp one-hundred-dollar bills tucked inside.

"Holy shit!" He counted the money again, his mouth agape in astonishment. It would take him months to earn this much. 

Karen chuckled from the kitchen and called out, "Sounds better than what they gave me for my seventeenth! A set of encyclopedias." 

He held the letter open and began to read. 

> _Dear Sean,_
> 
> _We hope this letter finds you well._
> 
> _You must be very worried about your brother, and we want you to know that he is being well-cared for. Although we can never replace your father or you, nor would we try to, we love Daniel very much. With God's help, we will do everything within our power to help him live a good, happy life._
> 
> _We have spoken to Daniel about the journey you two had, and while we strongly disagree with a number of your choices, I think we understand better the position you were in._
> 
> _However, part of our arrangement as Daniel's guardians includes a court order that he cannot have contact with you so long as he is a minor. No phone calls and no emails. We do not agree with this rule, but please understand that we must enforce it. Otherwise, we risk losing custody of your brother._
> 
> _There is nothing to prohibit you from sending him a good old-fashioned letter. Though we would advise against including any information you don't want the authorities to read, as they may be screening the mail._
> 
> _We wish we could do more to help you. Remember that we love you, and that you are in our prayers every night._
> 
> _Take care,_
> 
> _Claire and Stephen_

Sean stacked his gifts and cards on the coffee table, then joined his mother in the kitchen. "That was…really kind of Claire and Stephen. It definitely sounds like Daniel and I will have to skirt around them to stay in touch, though." He grabbed a dish towel and helped dry the last plate before putting it away. "Hate to make him break their rules." 

"Eh, it'll do him good to break a couple rules. So long as he doesn't get caught," Karen said, the voice of experience. She turned to face Sean."You look better. Ready to make a video for Daniel?" 

"Yeah." He positioned himself at one of the stools. "The lighting is probably best right here." 

As Karen set up the tablet, Sean fidgeted with his hair, nervous about what to say. But as soon as the camera started recording, the words managed to flow. 

"Hi, Enano! I miss you. So much. Wish I was there right now to give you a hug. Thank you for the birthday card. That drawing was really cool. 

"Let's see… lots to tell you about Mexico. I got a job on a fishing boat now. I really fit in with the pirate look. Oh! I'm sending back a drawing I made just for you my first day aboard the ship. I... think about you all the time.

"We have family here, and they're great! Dad has a cousin, Nanda. She reminds me of him. She knew him real well when they were growing up. Her husband, Arturo is pretty quiet but he's cool, too. They have two daughters, Telma who's older and lives in Mexico City, and Elena who's here and the same age as me. I'm sure you'll get to meet them some day. They'll love you. 

"I… I'm _not_ mad at you, enano. Not at all. I should have realized how torn you were feeling about everything. You even tried to tell me, but I was too scared and overwhelmed to hear it. I'm sorry for that… I'm sorry for a lot of things. All the stupid mistakes I made. I hope at least you know how hard I tried, how much I love you. I'm proud of you, Superwolf. You… you acted like a real hero, trying to save the day. Dad would be proud, too." 

Sean dashed away tears. Karen gave him a questioning look, but he continued. 

"Anyway… it seems like the wolf brothers aren't going to get to see each other for a while. That sucks. It more than sucks. It sucks so much there needs to be a new word for it. It's hard for me to do what you asked... to promise that I won't come after you. My heart wants to. I miss you that much. But I also know that if I did, there's no way it would end with us together. So… yeah. I promise.

"But you've gotta promise me something, too, Daniel. Let yourself be a kid. Don't grow up too fast. I know you already had to do a lot of growing up on the road, but it's not too late for you to still be a kid. Make friends. Do well in school. Be good, but be ten-years-old. You don't have to run anymore." 

Sean removed the red and blue silicone band from his right wrist. The bracelet had been his constant companion since Freshman year. He held it up to the camera. 

"Since you're too big for my old watch now, I want to give you this. Maybe it could be like... a reminder that I'm always with you, even when we're apart.

"Silver Runner might be off on a secret mission, but he will find a way to pass communications on to Superwolf. Maybe... Captain Spirit can help.

"Everything's gonna be all right, enano. I love you." 

Sean kissed his fingers and touched them to the camera. 

Karen stopped the recording, and wiped at her own damp cheeks. "I'm proud of you both. You guys will make this work." 

"Yeah." Sean scooped up a pack of cigarettes from the counter, fished one out for himself, and offered another to his mom. "I'm going out back for smoke. Wanna come? The beach is pretty amazing at night. Especially the sky." 

She accepted with a smile. "I'm sold, stargazer. Lead the way."


	6. Ecosystem of Generosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sean's first Mexican Independence Day, and despite the festivities around him, he's looking forward to a quiet weekend off. But, as the saying goes, you can't always get what you want.

Elena waved the hair clippers in the air, made an ominous buzzing noise with them, and grinned at Sean. "This is gonna look so bomb! Trust me." 

Sean bit back a groan. He glanced down at the endearingly janky wolf tattoo on his forearm. Cassidy's twinkling expression of mischief flashed through his mind's eye.

_"Boy, you won't be disappointed."_

Well, in a way, she'd been right. He was grateful to have the ink, along with most of the memories it evoked, even if the design wasn't quite what he'd envisioned. 

"Fine. Go for it." Sean straightened his shoulders and steadied himself for his first haircut in many months. 

Without hesitation, Elena fired up the clippers and began trimming his left side. "Even more of my friends are gonna be lusting after you when I'm through." 

"Lusting?" Sean's voice cracked slightly. "You're kidding, right?" 

Elena chuckled. "You have no idea, do you? You're like… this mysterious, exotic American in some complicated long-distance relationship. The ultimate challenge." 

Sean's stomach sank. He regretted asking. Didn't want to think about how much he missed Finn, or how much longer they'd be stuck apart, even though they spoke several times a week. He went for a change of subject. "How's school going? I miss seeing everyone at the weekend bonfires." 

Elena shifted behind Sean to work on his other side. "The parties will pick back up soon, once the initial workload calms down. Probably next month. God, it's insane compared to last year." She paused to brush hair off his shoulders. "I'm trying to savor the moments, you know? It's freaky to think I'll be away at university next year." 

"Yeah… I guess it would be." Sean watched as locks of his dark hair fell to the floor, and for just a moment his imagination drifted to an alternate timeline where he could be attending university, too. But in that scenario, he'd never have met Elena, which would have sucked. He let the thought float away like a sky lantern. "You're going for a degree in Hospitality Management, right?" 

"You know it! I love people and I love those tourism dollars. And now I've got a cousin to help with my English skills. I don't want to end up too far away from home, though." She went silent for a beat and there was nothing but the buzz of the clippers. "How's that online course for your high school equivalency going?" 

"Slowly," Sean admitted. "It's not like I have a shit-ton of free hours for studying. Since I can't take the test until I'm eighteen anyway, I keep on procrastinating 'cause I've got time. But I'm doing it, for sure." He tapped his fingers to his temple on the side she wasn't cutting. "Gotta stay sharp. You don't want a total dumbass for a cousin." 

"Nah, we only signed on for a partial dumbass," Elena teased. She set down the clippers on her dresser, switched to a sharp pair of shears, and went to work cutting and shaping. "Are you sure you don't want to come to Mexico City this weekend? There's enough room at Telma's place. And the Independence Day celebrations in the city are epic!" 

Sean sighed. "I would, but… I'm beat. I know I'm being boring, but I'm gonna use the free Saturday to rest and catch up on some shit. Next year, I'm in, though! Deal?" 

"Deal." Elena worked pomade into his hair and smiled, apparently too pleased with the result of her efforts to pout over Sean's continued refusal. "I'll hold you to that, cuz. Ooh... you'll be an official Mexican by then." 

"I think I already am." Sean dug out his wallet and slid over his brand new INE card. 

"Holy shit, the mugshot!" Elena grabbed the ID and brought it closer to get a better look. "Oh, this is tragic. You should've waited, rescheduled until I cut your hair."

"No way. Telma would have kicked my ass after the strings she pulled to get me the appointment." Sean took the ID back and studied it. "Damn. I really did need a haircut, though." 

"Well, check out your new look!" Elena held up a hand mirror for Sean and made a ta-da motion with her hands. 

He took in his reflection. The hair was short and neat on the sides and back, but not shaved. She had trimmed and shaped the top, but kept it longer and messier. It made him look younger and feel lighter. "Thanks. It's cool." He picked up the pomade jar. "Am I gonna have to put this crap in it now?" 

"I gave you the windswept look so you wouldn't be forced to style it, but you totally should! It only takes a minute." She finished dusting all the loose hair off his shoulders and neck. "Now I've gotta finish packing for tomorrow. Are you staying for dinner, or planning to duck out before Dad ropes you into another boring discussion about ocean conservation?" 

Sean laughed. "Who knew there was a topic that could get your dad going like that?" Now that shrimp season had begun, a visiting group of ocean conservationists were working closely with Arturo and all the Puerto Lobos fishing crews to study their bycatch and make further modifications to the trawling gear. It was clearly a passion of Arturo's, who delighted in having Sean recount their activities aboard the Huixtocihuatl. "I'm thinking I'll go have a quick dinner at home and see if I can get an hour of studying in. Will your mom's feelings be hurt if I don't stay?" 

"Not at all." Elena was already pulling various garments out of her closet and evaluating them for their trip-worthiness. "She's in full-on holiday prep mode." 

"Good. Thanks again… for the, uh, new 'do. Have fun in Mexico City, but don't--" 

"--get arrested." Elena finished for him. It had become an inside joke between the two of them, which they found endlessly amusing, mostly because of the way it made anyone who knew Sean's history look at them askance. 

Fuck 'em. Sean had every right to find humor in his own messed up situation. 

He gave Elena a tight hug, bid Nanda and Arturo a quick farewell on his way out, then headed home. 

* * *

The following evening found Sean sitting on the couch in his living room, sipping a beer, and working on a sketch. He was drawing Karen from a combination of memory and the one recent picture he had saved on his phone. It was off to a decent start. He hoped he'd be satisfied enough with the finished piece to gift it to her.

Raucous chatter and cheers from early revelers out on the beach drifted in through the window, but Sean was not tempted to join the celebration. 

This was the first Friday in months that hadn't also been a work night for him, and he was looking forward to doing fuck-all but staying up late and sleeping in the next day. 

However, his couch potato reverie was soon interrupted by a knocking at the door. The first tap was so faint that Sean dismissed it as wayward partiers having veered too close to his door. But then it came again, slightly louder. Half-expecting a drunken tourist pleading to use his bathroom, Sean rose from his comfortable spot and reluctantly opened the door.  
  
"Rodrigo?" 

The man looked like an absolute wreck, as if something significant had happened since Sean last saw him only a few hours prior. His shoulders were slumped, hair was mussed, and even in the dim light, visible remnants of tears streaked his face. 

"Sean. I'm sorry to bother you, but…" Rodrigo trailed off. 

"Come in," Sean stepped aside, beckoning him to enter. Over the past month, the two of them had become unlikely buddies, and had even taken to hanging out after work. But Rodrigo had never turned up at Sean's door before. 

"I didn't know where else to go, or who else I could talk to." Rodrigo was shaking, and Sean guided him to the couch. "My brother has gotten much worse and… I don't know how to help him." 

Sean fetched a glass of water for Rodrigo and sat down beside him. "What happened?" 

Rodrigo took a ragged breath and let it out again. "He… he went behind my back and pawned a bunch of our stuff, just to pay for more booze. Irreplaceable family heirlooms. But that's not even the worst... I'm terrified he's gonna die. He drinks himself into a stupor from the moment he wakes up every day, and stays like that until he passes out. Does dangerous shit in between. It's like a death wish." He stopped for a sip of water, barely able to hold the glass steady with the trembling of his hand. "When I got home from work this afternoon, I found him passed out so hard I couldn't tell if he was breathing. I was flipping out and that woke him up. I managed to get some coffee and water into him, and he started sobbing, begging me for help over and over. I have no fucking clue how to help. Those 12-step meetings or whatever aren't enough. He needs a full-time babysitter to help with the alcohol withdrawal. But if I miss that much work, we'll both starve. And that wouldn't help him with the underlying stuff." 

Sean placed a hand on Rodrigo's shoulder. "What about your family in Guatemala? Could he stay with them for a while?" 

"No. Even if I could swing the travel arrangements to get him there, we haven't been in touch with them for years. Rogelio doesn't want to burden them. He doesn't want the only family we have left to see him at his worst." Rodrigo made a sound of anguish and tried to stand. "Fuck it. I'm sorry for dumping this all on you, Sean. I thought maybe talking it through would help me come up with a solution, but it's hopeless." 

"No. Hey… we're friends now, right?" Sean asked, taking hold of Rodrigo's arm to keep him seated. Rodrigo nodded. "You know I've been through hopeless shit too. A different kind, but I get what it feels like. Talking through the possibilities can help."

Rodrigo tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "I thought about asking the captain if I could bring my brother aboard the ship with me for a while, but the withdrawal nausea combined with being at sea would make things ugly. Plus, it's a relatively small ship, and even sober, my brother is… not one to tone himself down for a work environment." 

Though Sean had never met Rogelio, the stories around town about him were plentiful and colorful. It was only now that he realized the people sharing the so-called funny anecdotes rarely seemed concerned with the troubled teenager at the center of them. 

Sean frowned. "This is probably a dumb question, but are there, like... rehab centers in Mexico? My brother has a friend back in the States whose Dad went to one earlier this year, and it seems to have helped." 

"There are plenty, but we can't afford any of them. Fucking money. Every solution costs more than we've got." Rodrigo downed the rest of his water. "A few months back, I did some research and found a good facility in Hermosillo. It's a three month residential treatment program, and they've even got this job training certification and reintegration program. But they don't take payment plans, and I never came close to saving the ninety-one hundred pesos it costs. Then… what little I had saved up, he found and spent on liquor."

Something tugged at Sean's gut. It was that uncomfortable sensation of knowing deep down the right thing to do, even when it would be difficult. "Hang on a sec, I'll be right back." 

He bounded up the stairs into his room, and felt around under his mattress until his fingertips made contact with the envelope. He withdrew it and examined the contents: six one-hundred dollar bills. The remainder of his birthday gift from Claire and Stephen. He'd spent two-hundred enrolling in the online high-school equivalency preparation course, another hundred getting himself set up with wifi, a webcam, a secure VPN, and more prepaid phone minutes. The final hundred had been necessary to bribe the appropriate individuals to get his ID and to have his truck officially registered. 

Ninety-one hundred pesos would be about five-hundred bucks. He had enough cash to do this. He could help Rodrigo and Rogelio. But... _Jesus_. It was a lot of money. Money that would not be easy for him to come by again.

Sean thought back to Brody, giving him and Daniel the last of his cash and the actual backpack off his back. He thought of Finn, Cass, Hannah, and Penny, sharing their communal meals with Sean and Daniel before they'd earned a dime to contribute. He recalled vividly the expression of absolute relief and gratitude on Jacob's face when Sean had insisted that he keep their money to get Sarah Lee treated. He thought about the denizens of Away, and how they had pooled their meager groceries and funds at a moment's notice to assist with Sean and Daniel's escape. Finally, he thought about Nanda, Arturo, and their kids, and all the ways in which they had bent over backwards to help him these past few months. 

With all that swirling in his mind, it wasn't even a question. Slipping the crisp bills into his wallet, Sean hurried back downstairs, scooped the keys to the truck off the kitchen counter and dangled them in front of Rodrigo. 

"Listen… I want to help. We can take my truck. I have the money. I know it's getting late, but I think we should drive your brother out there tonight, before he changes his mind, or--" 

"Sean--hold up. That's fucking crazy, dude." Rodrigo's jaw dropped. "No way I can let you do that. It's too much."

Sean met Rodrigo's wide-eyed gaze. "It's not too much. Everyone needs help sometimes, and this money was a birthday gift from my grandparents. It's like… found money in a way." 

"I'm guessing they don't send you that kind of cash often. I see how hard you work, how much you're struggling for cash here." Rodrigo sighed. "And not to sound like an ungrateful asshole, but I don't think I could handle owing you that kind of debt. What if I can never pay it back?"

"It's not a loan, man. You won't owe me." Sean sat beside Rodrigo again and attempted to explain. "Think of it like… okay, you know how those conservationists keep talking to us about ocean ecosystems?" Rodrigo's raised eyebrow indicated he was not even close to connecting the dots. Nevertheless, Sean went on, undeterred. "In the past year, a bunch of people helped me and Daniel. Financially and in other ways. It made me realize that we're part of this, like… ecosystem of generosity. We're all in it together. We took from it, and by helping you out now, I can do my part to give back to it." 

"I don't get you, Diaz." Rodrigo shook his head in disbelief, and gestured to Sean's hair. "You may have chopped off the mop, but you're a fucking hippie at heart, aren't you?" 

Sean grinned and thought of the so-called hippies he was proud to call friends. He shrugged. "Maybe a little. I've been labeled that once or twice."

"Are you sure about helping like this?" Rodrigo asked. "I mean… we desperately need it, and I'd be an idiot to turn you down, so I don't want you to think I'm not grateful. But even without repaying the cash, I dunno... it still feels like I'd owe you too much." 

" _Ecosystem_." Sean repeated slowly, giving Rodrigo a gentle nudge. "Come on! You gotta get on board with my shitty analogy, here. You won't owe me. I won't be thinking of it like that. If you owe anyone it's... a future person. One day you'll cross paths with someone who needs help that only you can provide. Could be a stranger or a friend. Maybe it's a beat-down, starving kid who needs a ride and a sandwich. Maybe it's someone who needs a job or a place to stay. Maybe it's... a recent American fugitive who needs to swap dollars for pesos under the table. Feed the ecosystem when you can, and we'll be good."

"Okay. I'm... on board with the shitty analogy." Rodrigo's eyes glistened, and his voice was hoarse. "Thank you, Sean." 

* * *

"Rogelio?" Rodrigo called out as they entered the darkened house. He flicked on the light switch. 

A skinny figure rose from the sofa in the center of the room, groaning. Dressed only in a pair of denim-cut offs, Rogelio's stringy brown hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail. He staggered toward them. "Whoa. You brought me a _boy_?" A scent like a distillery overwhelmed Sean's nostrils as Rogelio draped an arm around Sean's shoulder. "And a cute one, too." 

"I did not bring you a boy." Rodrigo pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is my friend, Sean. Sean, this is my brother, Rogelio." 

"Call me 'Heli'," he slurred, trailing a fingertip along Sean's bicep. "And I could call you any-any… whatever you want, Papi." 

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Rodrigo shot Sean an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. When my brother gets like this, he can be... a lot." 

"He means 'gay'! Druuuunk and gay! Suuuuper gay!" Heli whispered loudly in Sean's ear, then teetered back, obviously expecting a negative reaction. 

Sean stared into Heli's half-lidded bloodshot, hazel eyes. The guy looked rough, sad and lost, older than his nineteen years, but there was also something painfully young about him. Sean could see the shadow of a little kid inside, still trying to provoke people for attention. 

"That's cool," Sean said. "Actually, I'm, uh... bi," he added, awkwardly, hoping it might put Heli at ease. 

"Rigo, you _did_ bring me a boy!" 

"Heli! Jesus, will you knock it the fuck off? I didn't bring Sean here to set you guys up." Rodrigo stormed into the living room and planted himself on the couch. 

Sean figured laying his cards on the table might shut this conversation down. "I'm not exactly available anyway." He extricated himself from Heli's drunken embrace and started toward the living room.

"Aww, you got a boyfriend? A girlfriend?" Heli followed Sean and propped himself precariously on the narrow arm of the sofa.

"I've got… there's this guy. It's complicated." 

"Complicated?" Heli attempted a cat-like smirk that might have been charming if he wasn't utterly shitfaced. He leaned closer, lost his balance, and landed inelegantly on Sean's lap. "I could make things so simple for you." 

"Rogelio!" Rodrigo scolded. He gingerly peeled his brother off of Sean's lap and plunked him down on the couch between them. "Fucking focus. Sean's here to help. He's going to drive us to Hermosillo tonight, and we're gonna get you checked into that Residential Treatment facility I told you about."

In an instant, any trace of light or playfulness vanished from Heli's expression, replaced by sheer panic. "Listen, Rigo… I know tonight was bad." His voice trembled. "But since you left, I've been thinking, maybe I could just quit on my own." 

"Heli..." Rodrigo reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair away from Heli's face, gazing at him with evident worry and affection. "You've tried stopping on your own a dozen times. This problem is bigger than you can handle alone, and you don't have to."

"Just let me try one more time," Heli pleaded, tears falling freely. "One more. It'll be different." 

Sean shifted in his seat. He felt like an intruder witnessing a private family moment, but stepping away now would only draw unnecessary attention to himself. 

"You hocked Mom's wedding ring for booze! That was all we had left of hers! And I thought you were fucking dead this afternoon!" Rodrigo dashed away tears of frustration. "I can't force you to get help, but… earlier you said you were ready. You begged. Think about it. Please?" 

Slowly, Heli nodded. "You're right. I'll do it," he whispered, then flung himself into Rodrigo's open arms. "I do want to get better, for both of us." 

"You're the strongest person I know. You can do this." Rodrigo kissed the top of his brother's head and stood. "Let me help you pack a bag." He turned to Sean. "Do you mind waiting out here for us?" 

Sean stood. "No problem. I might make a call if that's cool." 

"Of course," Rodrigo replied, then swept out of the room with his little brother tucked in the crook of his arm. He looked like a bird protecting a fledgeling. 

After waiting until they closed the door behind them, Sean pulled out his phone and dialed Finn's number. He was gratified as always when Finn picked up on the second ring. 

"Heya, sweetie! Calling early tonight so you can go out and get your El Grito on?" 

Finn's voice was a warm embrace, and even with what had just transpired, Sean couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. "Um... definite no. Kind of the opposite, actually." 

"Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good." 

"I've talked to you about my friend Rodrigo, right?" 

"The dude who was a total dick to you until you won him over with that irresistible Diaz charm?" 

"Hah. That's not how I'd put it, but yeah." Sean exhaled. "It's a long story, but I'm about to drive him and his brother to Hermosillo, to get his brother admitted to an inpatient rehab. It's almost a four hour drive each way." 

"Well, shit." Finn let out a long whistle. "There goes your holiday and your day off. I know you were itching for that down time. You doing okay?" 

"Mostly," Sean lowered his voice even further. "It's… a lot. He's in bad shape. But I'm glad I could be here to help. Their parents died, and their other family is all the way in Guatemala. They only have each other." 

"If anyone knows what that's like, it's you," Finn said, softly. "Do you have any how amazing you are? They're lucky to have you." 

Sean blushed. "Thanks. You know... you're amazing, too. I was thinking about you earlier tonight. I mean… I think about you a lot--" _real fucking smooth_ "--but specifically, I was remembering how much you helped Daniel and me when we first bumped into you in California. You didn't even know us, but you went out of your way. Stuck your neck out for us when you didn't have to. You are a part of what makes me want to help out other people when I can." 

"Wow… Sean. Not sure I deserve you thinking such generous things about me... not after everything. I wish things had gone different. Still rips me up. You know?" 

"I know. We both made a fucked up choice that night, and we're both paying for it in different ways, but that doesn't change how much you did for us, or how much you're still helping. You're a good guy, Finn. I know it. So… fucking deal with it." 

Finn laughed. "All right, sweetheart. I'll take it. Thank you. You're a goddamn prince. And… I think about you a lot too, for whatever that's worth." 

A prickle of heat traveled along Sean's skin. He scrabbled for an appropriate response: something poetic to convey the depth of his own feeling, or a well-phrased question to clarify where they stood, or a commiseration on how the fuck they were going to tolerate another eighteen months apart. But he couldn't conjure the words. 

Several long seconds later, Finn was the one who broke the silence. "Hey, have you talked to Jake recently?" 

"Not since last weekend. Why?" 

"I'm not gonna spoil the surprise, but you should speak to him." 

"You know I'm not a fan of surprises," Sean huffed. "Just tell me." 

"Uh-uh. Call him now, soon as we hang up. I hate to cut this short, 'cause I could listen to that sexy voice of yours all night, but I promise you'll wanna hear his news before you hit the road." 

"All right." Sean tried not to sound too needy when he asked, "Can I call you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, you'd better! I wanna hear how tonight went. Be safe out there, darlin', and watch out for the holiday crazies." 

"I'll uh, talk to you tomorrow, then." Sean chewed his bottom lip, waiting for Finn to say the words that always ended their calls. 

"I love you," Finn murmured. 

"I love you, too," Sean answered.

He disconnected the call and banged his head lightly against the wall. One of these days, he would find a way to ask Finn what, exactly, that meant.

Sean checked the time on his phone: 8 p.m. Colorado was in the same time zone, so Jake should be finished with work by now. 

The former Humboldt crew, rejoined by Jake and minus Finn, had landed work at a pot farm in Colorado. They were legal 'trim artists' now. Apparently, the pay wasn't as lucrative, but it was decent, and there were other positives to make up for it. One of the significant upsides for Jake was that Sarah Lee was in the custody of a nearby Aunt and Uncle, so he got to see her often. 

"Sean!" Jake answered, sounding upbeat. "Finn told you to call, right?" 

"Yeah. He was kind of vague about why, though. How's it going there?" 

"A couple of days ago, the boss told us we're relocating to a bigger facility this winter. Because of the move and the timing, all operations are gonna be shut down for two weeks over Christmas and New Year's." 

That was a long stretch without work, especially over the holidays. "Shit. That sucks, Jake. What are you guys gonna do?" 

"No, no. It's a good thing. The boss is still paying our wages. It'll be like a two-week vacation." 

"Oh." Sean was pleased for them, though not sure why Finn considered it such earth-shattering news. "That's great!" 

"You haven't heard the best part. We were all talking about what to do during the break, and decided we ought to come down and pay you a visit. Cassidy, Hannah, Penny and me, What do you think?" 

Sean was so stunned he had to sit back down. "Wait… for real? Seriously? That would be fucking awesome! Are you sure?" 

"Escaping the Colorado winter to spend time at a warm beach, experiencing a new country, getting a chance to hang out with you, all for just the price of food and gas money… it's the first thing the four of us have unanimously agreed on in weeks. I can borrow a van, and if we take turns driving, we should be able to make it there in less than a day. Will there be room for us at your place?"

Sean pictured his big, empty spare room, and tried not to get too excited at the image of a house filled with friends. "Definitely. I don't have spare beds, but there's plenty of crash space if you bring your sleeping bags. I'll need to work most days, but I'll see if maybe I can get a little time off. It'll be so cool to see you guys. What about Sarah Lee? Aren't you worried about leaving her for the holidays?"

"Oh, jeez. Can't believe I forgot to mention that part. Our aunt and uncle are going skiing over the holidays and Sarah Lee doesn't want to go with them, so we arranged for her to stay with Daniel and your grandparents at Beaver Creek." Jake's excited rambling slowed to a halt. "I hope that's... okay with you." 

There was a pang in Sean's chest at the news. He wished he could be there with Daniel, to have the festive Christmas they were both deprived of last year, and it hurt that he couldn't be. But he was thrilled that Daniel would get to experience it, with two of his best friends at his side. "Yeah. Of course it is. Claire and Stephen will dote on your sister like crazy. Their house at Christmas looks like a greeting card. She'll love it. Daniel must be so psyched." 

"He really is. So is Sarah Lee. She keeps talking about all this stuff they're planning to do with Daniel's other friend, Chris. It's sweet... and it's nice to see her so animated about something after the rough year she had. I think visiting Daniel in person will help them both. I'll be dropping her off before we head out your way." 

A floorboard creaked across the room, and Sean looked over to find Rodrigo and Heli emerging from the bedroom. "Shit, Jake, I gotta go now, but this is so cool. Tell the crew I can't wait to see them, okay?" 

"I will. Call back soon and I'll give you the details about what day we're getting there and stuff. Bye, Sean!"

"Bye." 

Sean hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He stepped over to take the large duffel bag from Rodrigo. "I can get this into the truck," he offered. 

Judging by their damp eyes and blotchy faces, both brothers had been talking and crying some more while they packed. Heli panned the room. "Three whole months away. Apart. I don't know if I can do it, Rigo." 

"I'll visit," Rodrigo promised. "And you'll be back in time for Christmas." 

Another hug was exchanged between the brothers, after which Sean escorted them out to the truck. He stashed the bag in the back, as Rodrigo climbed into the passenger side and Heli sprawled out across the back seat. Sean slid behind the wheel and turned on the ignition. 

They drove in complete silence for a while. "Thank you," Rodrigo said finally, as they carefully wound their way through the uncharacteristic throng of people out on the streets.

Sean peered into the back seat. Despite the noise and bustling crowd around them, not to mention the stress of his situation, Heli was curled up and appeared to be out cold. . 

"He's just asleep," Rodrigo commented, following Sean's line of vision. "Riding in cars always knocks him right out. Plus, it's been a long fucking day." 

"I'm sure." Sean smiled. An echo of Brody's voice filled his head. "If you wanna sleep too, man--" 

"And let the one-eyed driver navigate an unfamiliar route alone? Not a chance. Seriously, I'm good." Rodrigo stared out the window as they hit Route 3 and began down the long, open road. 

"This is like déjà vu. All that's missing is the rain," Sean muttered. "Reminds me of a situation Daniel and I were in last year. Actually, it's completely different in most ways. Nevermind. Ignore me." 

"You wanna tell me about it?" Rodrigo prompted. "We've got hours to go, and I wouldn't mind a story." 

"Sure," Sean began, "so… this was back when we first went on the run. We'd been walking and camping for days, and we came across this backwater gas station with all these creepy carved bears out front." 

From there, he relayed the entire tale to Rodrigo, omitting the parts about Daniel's power. He talked about Doris and Hank Stamper, the harrowing abduction and being handcuffed to a pipe, Daniel helping him escape, Brody rescuing them both, Mushroom, the car ride, and the Three Seals Motel. 

As they continued on their drive, an unfamiliar sort of peace washed over Sean. His current life was a significant departure from whatever future he'd pictured for himself and Daniel back then, sitting in Brody's battered old station wagon, riding through Oregon. But now, finding himself in a strangely parallel situation brought into sharp relief the ways in which the universe--whether fate, or chance--has a way of coming through. On its own terms and timetable, yes, but even so… 

Maybe it could be enough. 

  
  



End file.
